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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24258859">The Rest of Their Lives</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniusincombatboots/pseuds/geniusincombatboots'>geniusincombatboots</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Horse and The Swan [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Married Life, Some eventual angst, Writer still fudges some details from the source material</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:27:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>100,270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24258859</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniusincombatboots/pseuds/geniusincombatboots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A wedding is never the end of the story, but rather the beginning of a new one. Being a collection of stories about the early marriage of Eomer Eadig and Lothiriel.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Éomer Éadig/Lothíriel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Horse and The Swan [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>And we're back!<br/>This is likely going to follow as a series of short stories told over multiple chapters, rather than a single story.<br/>As ever I hope you enjoy this new part of the series.<br/>Kudos and Comments are always very appreciated!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being a queen had always been presented as an unwieldable burden with more duties than joy, but Lothiriel had found that she enjoyed her reign over the first few months, in spite of the responsibilities that were laid on her. Her ledgers were beginning to make sense, the gains and costs forming a clear line of potential success, and with the start of spring, she was hopeful that the spring wheat planning would yield as well as the vegetable crops seemed to be doing so far. With the warmer weather, the builders had restarted the village buildings, and she kept as careful an eye as her husband to the progress of the settlements, keeping a separate book for that settlement from its start to ensure its success. Her recommendation that seeds be planted in every planned garden and farm even before the families moved in had been accepted, with an eye to keeping a percentage of the crops in the crowns name for either trade or further investment, or to ensure that if there was another hard winter there would be safeguards in place for their people.</p><p>Thus far there had been no complaints from the lords of the Mark at her suggestions and policies, which she found their approval a pleasant surprise as she had expected that having such plans laid out by a wife might not be taken well. She had expected to be told to mind the house and hearth, and to keep her attentions on ladies’ matters. She had even told Eomer to claim that the plans were of his own making, but she had finally come to terms with how impossible it was to tell him what to do when he had already made up his mind. Perhaps there had been a sense of relief in the government that their new king had bended to her guiding hand, though no one had expressed this sentiment to her directly.</p><p>The winter had indeed been hard, at least to Lothiriel who had never been as cold as that in her life, the damp winter chill taking hold deep in her bones. She took comfort in the fact that at least, she had the money to buy warm furs, and in the oven that was her husband kept her from being freezing through the night, and she added it as another benefit to being married. She did not like the cold, but at least the winter did not seem thus far to feel the need to extend its stay over the grasslands.</p><p>The company of the ladies of her household was also a sense of comfort that she had no realized she would need. She had given Lady Baldgwyn the honor of being the lady of her chambers, and allowed her nieces a place as well, and a handful of other ladies would gather for a few hours a day to look over their “womanly duties”, be that mending shirts, weaving, embroidering, or the foreign craft that they called nalbinding where they wove fabrics from yarn with a hooked needle. Lothiriel had taken to this strange, frameless weaving with relish, as it somehow, even with the complicated knots required, more mobile than weaving, and saved more space beside. She had set about making as many blankets as she could to send as homecoming gifts to the families returning to the Westfold settlements, and had by her actions inferred to her ladies that she should like them to join her for in the work as far as they were able with their own time.</p><p>The next thing that needed to be done as quickly as possible was to have tradesmen inspect the roof of Meduseld to ensure that the winter’s snow and frost had not done too much damage before the spring rains came, Lothiriel thought, working her little wooden hook in the yarn. She liked having the simple projects to keep her hands busy as she worked through her plans.</p><p>She looked up as her ladies quieted in their talk, to see their king coming in through the door, as ever looking a little embarrassed at coming into the small structure that was traditionally set aside for the use of the Queen of Rohan and her ladies.</p><p>Lothiriel Queen smiled, rising to her feet, “My Lord, as ever, you honor us with your presence,” she teased, setting her work aside and offering her hand to him, “though I should think you would have far more pressing matters than to come hence.” She quirked her brow at him, having taken to keeping a schedule for his days, thinking it would help keep him to his duties, though there had been little enough success in it so far.</p><p>He bowed over her hand, looking sideways at the ladies looking at him, “I daresay, but in truth I have been forced into hiding.”</p><p>She settled back into the window seat, picking up the woolen swatch she was working, and pulled the ball of yarn aside to give her husband space to sit. She pulled her feet, bare but for her stockings up under her, “Are they bullying you again?” she teased.</p><p>“In a way,” he admitted, picking up the basket with her yarns, not yet balled into a workable form, and looking at her, pleadingly.</p><p>From time to time, he would come to her solar when he could no longer bear to occupy himself with the work he was meant to be doing. She had allowed it, but told him that she was a hard taskmaster, and she would not have idle hands, and if he was going to sit with her, he would work, even if it was only in holding yarn for her to wind. She would never tell him that it saved someone else from needing to, or else finding some device that might offer the same service.</p><p>Lothiriel untwisted the yarn and set it over his open hands finding a loose end and began winding the yarn, watching her husband’s furrowed brow with a concern both new and old coming over her, “Tell me.” She said, sighing a little, as she knew what he would tell her.</p><p>“There is word of a need for a patrol to ride out,” Eomer said, slowly, in a low voice, “There are more reports of orcs hiding in the country and making trouble.”</p><p>The ladies had resumed their talking again, but they both knew that they were being listened to. It was the benefit to having their conversations in this room, if anything they said became gossip, they would know with a margin of error of three, who had spoken it.</p><p>“And you want to go,” she asked, her hands not slowing. She had dared to hope that the frost, or the villagers in the Mark had killed off the rest of the beasts. There would always be some threat or other, and he would always feel that it was his responsibility to put those threats down. It was his responsibility, she knew, but that did little to ease her trepidation.</p><p>“You would have full power of decision while I am away,” he replied, “you know, of course, I would trust no one else so well as I trust you.”</p><p>“How long would the riders need to be afield?”</p><p>“A month at the absolute longest, but likely only a few weeks.”</p><p>She took a deep breath, feeling the fibers between her fingers. She rubbed the coil of thread anxiously, “I would rather you not go with them.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>She could feel his eyes on her. He needed to get out into the fields and do what he felt in his core was his purpose. She knew how out of place he felt, and perhaps it would be better to let him go, as much as she wanted him to stay with her, safe where she could… not protect him, but keep him out of trouble, so far as she was able.</p><p>“I am not asking your permission,” his voice wasn’t hard, so much as it seemed that he was begging her to understand.</p><p>She nodded slowly.</p><p>He caught the yarn with his thumb, giving it a gentle tug, forcing her look up at him. “It is not in my nature to beg, my queen.”</p><p>Why did he insist on telling her things of this nature in front of people? Was it because she could not scream at him in front of witnesses?</p><p>“And it is not in my nature to let you…” she took a breath, trying to calm herself, “I do not think it wise at present,” she said as quietly as she could, “and since I am…” she cut her eyes away, “I know you will do what you deem right. May we speak of this later?</p><p>Eomer’s shoulders tensed a moment before softening as he recognized the look of anxiety painted over his new wife’s face. He nodded slowly, preparing himself for whatever rages would fall from her lips. He should have waited to tell her, or else tell her that he was going, no matter what she said, she would already have time to plan out her argument, which spelled at very least a headache for him.</p><p>Eomer watched her nimble fingers taking in the end of the yarn and knotting it, jerking her head to the basket for him to take up another as she secured the ball of yarn and dropped it in the basket of its kin.</p><p>She smiled suddenly, shaking her head a little as she wrapped another ball, “At some point, your tormentors will figure out where you have been hiding.” </p><p>“Yes, and then I will need to find somewhere else to secret myself away,” he smiled, a little shyly.</p><p>“Or you could just be a king and do what it is you are meant to be doing.”</p><p>Eomer groaned, “I know, do not remind me of my duties.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“I just think that riding off against a rabble of orcs is not something that you should be doing,” Lothiriel explained for the tenth time, “You have men, and if it is not so dangerous, as you claim, I do not see why you should ride at their head.”</p><p>“Because if I stay here, I am going to go mad,” Eomer finally exclaimed back, rubbing his temple against the headache that his wife’s logic brought on.</p><p>“Then take up riding again but do so with your guards and do so in safety.”</p><p>“I used to do this frequently, ‘Thiriel,” he groaned, “and it is my duty to do it.”</p><p>“We are no longer at open war! Give Rohan a few heirs to ensure the stability of the country, then it might not be so reckless for you to ride out!” Lothiriel snapped.</p><p>“Well, I certainly am doing my best on that score,” Eomer teased, leaning his forearms on his legs.</p><p>She dropped to sit in front of her mirror, her fingers worrying the end of her braid. “Then do you think it my fault?”</p><p>“This is not simply about my riding out that we are discussing,” his smile faltered, looking at her more carefully.</p><p>“There is little in our lives that is as simple as that,” Lothiriel replied, looking back at him a moment before turning her gaze away, trying to find the best words to express her concern without giving him too much guilt, “Must you be so careless presently?”</p><p>He crossed to her, studying her face, his fingers smoothing over her hair.</p><p>“I do not want any harm to befall you,” she said, as easily as she could.</p><p>He kissed the top of her head, “I will be safe as ever I have been. I promise you.”</p><p>She smiled back at him, taking his hand in hers and pressing her lips to the back of his hand. In the morning, he would leave.</p><p>She knew that someday he would need to leave her, that there would be many times in their lives together that he would be called from her side, “I had thought that we would have more time before you would need to leave on such an errand. And I had rather hoped it would be something more pressing than this,” she admitted. “But I understand.” She could concede his need to act, and to be helpful in the only way he thought he could be.</p><p>Eomer pressed his forehead to hers, “I would have you tell me what it is that troubles you.” He had a concept of the trouble but wanted to her tell him anyway, to be sure he understood.</p><p>She took a breath, looking away, “I grow weary of every eye looking for some sign that I am with child. “</p><p>“Do you want to be?”</p><p>“Of course, I do.”</p><p>He shook his head, “I mean to ask if you are weary of the expectation, or if you are disappointed in the lack of a pregnancy.”</p><p>“I… know that it is expected.”</p><p>“That is not what I asked.”</p><p>“Both, then,” she said after a moment of thought, “I am… the court talks about it when they think I cannot hear. I just want them to have no cause for speculation.”</p><p>“I have no doubt that in time we will have a child,” Eomer’s voice was a soft, comforting thing, “but we cannot live our entire lives just waiting. The expectations that we have on our shoulders are beyond our control, but we can control ourselves.”</p><p>She smiled, “I suppose so. That is a wise sentiment, and perhaps I should try to live by it.”</p><p>“Yes, Amrothos said that to me at our wedding.”</p><p>She laughed, “After he had been drinking, I would guess.”</p><p>“Your brother has a brief window in his revelries where he becomes quite the philosopher.”</p><p>“You only find it charming because you have not lived long with him,” she smiled, her gaze turning from him, her mind returning to her own concerns, as foolish as they might seem to him.</p><p>“We are still newly married, and if I may be honest, I am relieved of the time we still have for each other,” Eomer said, his low voice earnest, “A child of course would be a peerless blessing, but I want to enjoy your undivided attentions a while longer.”</p><p>She leaned her head on his shoulder, letting him wrap his arms around her, and thinking on his words. Perhaps he was a little selfish, but that was his prerogative as her husband. “You only want me to continue as I have, and to continue picking up the slack of your laziness.”</p><p>“That is certainly part of it,” he smiled, “If left to my own devices, Bema alone knows what fresh chaos would spring forth. I am taking your lessons well as I may, but fear I am far from skilled yet.”</p><p>She nestled under his chin, taking in the warmth and security that his embrace always gave her, trying to keep it in her memory as she would need it. There would be nights alone, and she was not yet prepared for them. She pulled the embrace looser around her as she looked into his face, “Come to bed. I am tired.”</p><p>As her husband and as king, he might have held an expectation of her passions as a kindly farewell before their parting in the morning, but he made no move to pressure her in that way, holding her gently against his chest, and smoothing his fingers over her hair, and pressing kisses to her face and her lips moment after moment.</p><p>“If you are injured on this ride, I will be displeased,” Lothiriel said after a moment.</p><p>“I should never hope to displease my queen,” Eomer replied, smiling at her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, here's a fun little chapter about a golly darn virus and a quarantine. A little too topical maybe, but here it is.<br/>I did as much research as I could about the Sweating Sickness, but there isn't much information, making it a wonderful villain.<br/>Hope you enjoy as ever!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first few days after the King and his riders had left the city were hard on his young queen, though she went through her every action as if she did not feel the harsh loneliness of her position in its entirety for the first time since her coronation. Lothiriel had been able to lean on the task of helping her husband rule and had taken it as a distraction the same as she had taken all of her plans and projects. While many of her designs were still in place, or else her works could occupy her mind, but the affirmations of his lords while welcome paled in their comparison to her husband’s, did give her a measure of pride.</p><p>And so, it was as she met with his council, taking careful notes as to their concerns and to her actions and options as she made decisions, though no matter was so pressing that she would need to explain herself when Eomer returned. The custom in Rohan were not to keep much of their history of doings written, thinking that anything done would be told over in their oral tradition. Their Queen smiled, and accepted this, but kept her own notations, and wondered if they would outlast the oral keepings of their country. She kept her schedules and kept them well, hoping that it would ease the pain at the separation from her husband, and wished she had not spent her last night with him telling him off, and decided to do her best to be more docile to him on his return. They would not be parted long at least.</p><p>By the second week, Lothiriel had steeled herself to the best of her ability against the absence of her husband. The court, while being aware of the affection between their king and queen, had determined that she was as hearty as their own people, and being a dutiful queen, were by and large, pleased by her ability to take up the reign without hesitation, or falling into her own emotions.</p><p>Should things have stayed simple as they could have been, the hall’s mending going as well as the reports that had yet come of her farming plans, the time would have passed easily enough as Lothiriel Queen managed the country. But the illness that had started small in a few households changed the course and affection that the people in the city would give their new queen.</p><p>Lothiriel had been with the council, looking over reports of the Westfold resettlement, smiling a little as the workers had managed to get the wheat planted far quicker than she had hoped to expect, “Very good. I will expect further reports, and we must keep an eye to the growth of the crops and ensure no blight falls over the crops.”</p><p>Lady Baldgwyn stood hesitantly at the door of the chamber, rapping her knuckles at the door and dropped in a quick curtsy, “Your Majesty, may I enter?”</p><p>“Of course,” Lothiriel frowned, looking between her lady and the healer following her, Master Derndor’s face was grim, even for his trade. Lothiriel looked over her councilors, debating a moment whether or not she should dismiss them. She gestured, “My lords, please stay, if you would be so kind. This tiding may hold interest to all, if I am not mistaken.”</p><p>Master Derndor bowed low, almost seeming to fear giving her the information that he was duty bound to do so, “Your Majesty, the gates of this city must be sealed at once.”</p><p>“And for what reason?” Lothiriel asked, her hands folding in her lap to stop them fidgeting with the pen in front of her.</p><p>“The Sweating Sickness is in the city,” he said, his gravelly voice making his grave words seem all the more deadly.</p><p>“Are you certain? Is it not too early in the year for it to come on?”</p><p>“There is nothing else it could be.”</p><p>Lothiriel took a breath, “Are the infected already kept to their houses?” She twisted the ring on her finger.</p><p>“Yes, though we cannot yet guess how many have thus far been infected.”</p><p>“Of course,” Lothiriel rose, “lock the gates, but send a rider to tell the king that he must make for Aldburg, until we can be sure the city is safe for his return.” Her mind went through the plans that would need to be made. “How many have taken ill thus far?”</p><p>“Only a dozen that we can be sure of,” Derndor replied, “most cases are in the lower city.”</p><p>Lothiriel looked at the lords, waiting in the case that any wished to ask any questions, but their silence belied the fear in their faces. She turned back to Lady Baldgwyn, “Is there any house that we may house the ill, so that we may keep their care centralized?”</p><p>“It might be done, though only by your assent to give your ladies’ house to the purpose,” Lady Baldgwyn said, a measure of care in her voice as she had already considered it. “We would be able to take supplies there most easily.”</p><p>“Do it. Keep the people inside, and we will decide on some mark they can lay upon their doors should they need to be taken to the sick house,” Lothiriel looked over the lords again, “is this acceptable, my lords?”</p><p>“What will the people do about food?” Lord Fulgar asked, an elder lord who could politely be called rotund.</p><p>She looked over the books of her stores, and opened a separate book of the treasury, “Buy all the food in the city that is not yet purchased and divide it among the households based on the numbers that live there. Master Healer, how long should we expect this to last at the longest?”</p><p>“Perhaps two weeks, to be certain that the sickness has run its course, and that it has died out,” Master Derndor said, “Though we can hardly be certain whence this sickness has come.”</p><p>“It has been almost ten years since we have had an outbreak,” Lord Almod said, his words taking care before he went on, “And by the actions you would take, it would protect the rest of the Kingdom, unless there is some other infection in the land.”</p><p>“Should we send out riders to see if any other places are so affected?” Lothiriel asked.</p><p>“Perhaps, but precautions must be taken and the riders must not enter the villages themselves, in case the illness has not yet come,” Lord Gleothain said with care, “Perhaps it would be better to have word sent to Eomer King, and have his own riders seek out such information for us instead.”</p><p>Lothiriel nodded, thinking this idea was better than her own, “Of course, then that is the course we will take. Let us begin.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel kneeled before the fire, her hands clasped that she might pray as fervently as she was able. The last few days had been as full as the great room of her solar had become. While a body, surviving the worst of the illness in a day or two may find themselves spared from the painful death of the sickness, they were not able to return to their homes, being weakened by their fight. She had not been able to stand by in her halls, any more than her husband had been able to, and she prayed that he had taken her advice and ridden on to their house far from home, where should she fall ill, he would be spared, and be able to rule on.</p><p>The queen had not taken ill yet, by grace, and perhaps she would not. She had given the order already that should she take the sickness, no word was meant to be sent to Eomer, for knowing his nature would ride back to sit by her bedside until she either recovered or was beyond help, or else would be set upon by the demon of anxiety or rage. Her prayer was that she be spared, and that her people would be so as well, and so far as was possible there would be no further keening funerals in this country.</p><p>The knocking at her chamber door, drew her from her prayers, and she rose to sit in her husband’s chair, taking the comfort of his scent still present on it. “Come,” she called gently, taking up her nalbinding, to present that she had no troubles to her mind, even as Heohild’s familiar face peered into the room.</p><p>“Is there anything you need, my lady?” her voice was sweet, even as it was edged by her concern.</p><p>“Some mulled wine please, if it can be found,” Lothiriel did her best to smile, “I have found it hard to sleep of late.”</p><p>“Have you a chill?” Heohild asked, stepping toward her mistress, but stopping short in her steps, as if fearing Lothiriel’s close contact with the sick.</p><p>“No, and thus far I have no reason to think I am ill,” she smiled, “though your caution is a credit to you.”</p><p>“Is it very bad?”</p><p>“It may yet be,” Lothiriel took a breath, “but it will pass in time. That is all that we can yet do, wait, and hope that the people will keep themselves inside.”</p><p>“How do you imagine His Majesty is taking the news?”</p><p>“With grace and patience, I am sure,” Lothiriel said, raising a brow before laughing, “In truth, I worry for the floorboards of the house he is in, for the pacing he will be doing. We should have word back from his riders in the next few days. If any other part of the country is affected, we can then decide the best course of action to take then.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer for his part was far too given to act upon his wife’s predictions, even when he was unaware of them as he paced the sitting room, “You know my wife will be up to her hips in dispensing medical aid.”</p><p>“As opposed to the alternative,” Eothain refilled his goblet, settling in for his friend and lord’s anxiety laden rant which to the untrained eye looked like a fit of his notorious temper. He picked another cushion from a nearby chair, and settled it behind his shoulders, still sore from the weeks of riding and fighting. His own wife, Waerhild was a lady of the Queen’s Household, and would likely be at best dabbing brows and bringing food to the ill. He had learned early enough that Lothiriel Queen was as impetuous as her husband, and that neither confirming, nor denying Eomer’s concerns would do any good, even if he could hardly be expected to help it, “at least she means to do good by her service.”</p><p>All the men were eager to return to their wives and sweethearts, and were praying that they were safe, but Eomer was acting like a madman, as he had been prone in his youth.</p><p>“And get herself taken with the sickness?” Eomer rounded on his captain, his eyes flashing, “I should have a law written whereby any time an infection comes over the capitol that the Queen is to be locked in her rooms until it has passed.”</p><p>Eothain made a very careful study of the golden liquid in his cup, noting its color and consistency, as if he would be forced to give a master class on the qualities of the mead produced in the last years of the reign of Theoden King.</p><p>“And after the lecture she gave me for riding out,” Eomer had resumed his pacing, “The very gall of her. Her considerations… she called me reckless! Do you believe that she would say such a thing, without any sense of irony?”</p><p>“No,” Eothain said nothing further, finding it the safest option available in that moment.</p><p>“She did say so, and with all the certainty of rightness in her words,” Eomer blustered.</p><p>He only spoke out of his concern for her safety and wellbeing, and in a desire to not acknowledge that he understood her concerns all the better for his own fear. He should have stayed with her, though he knew there was little he would have been able to do even still in Edoras to stop her from trying to help those of their people that needed it. His cup was empty, and only by that minor irritation did he sit again, slumped and hunching in his brooding. The corner of his eye caught Eothain refilling the empty cup, suspicious in his silence, “What say you, then?” Eomer asked, his friend.</p><p>“That you know your wife,” Eothain said, his voice quiet as he took careful measure of the king’s mood as it changed, “and you must trust her actions.”</p><p>“Even if they are little more than folly?”</p><p>Retreat and attack with a different strategy, then, “Undoubtedly she will take precautions.”</p><p>Eomer grunted, irritably, “Perhaps I may tell her to come here.”</p><p>“For the sake of the health of the nation, it might be best that she does not…”</p><p>The King grunted again, then sat forward, stretching his back, and feeling for the cushion he had put there. His eyes turned on his aggressively comfortable companion, his eyes narrowing as he reached to snatch back the pillow for his lumbar, “git,” he almost smirked.</p><p>"Perhaps you could write, and respectfully ask that your wife take care, and keep to the chambers until it is safe," Eothain said with a careful smile.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>The cases that had been in a few of the surrounding farm villages, and a few further settlements seemed to have passed with so little concern that none of their denizens had even considered that they ought to have sent word beyond their confines to warn anyone else, but for the most part had recovered almost entirely.</p><p>It did kindle the hope in the hearts of the people of Edoras, who by their Queen’s command had kept themselves in their houses, knowing that it would hardly last for all time, and that it would be over soon. The comfort of the food brought and left at their doors, and the plans in place to have more food brought to the gates of the city if it was needed, took most concern from their shoulders.</p><p>The bodies of the ill were taken out of the city and burned, which thankfully was close enough to the funeral traditions of the common people of Rohan, saving them from what would have been a further struggle for the families who had already lost their kin, and were still recovering from the sorrows of the war.</p><p>Their Queen for had in time been persuaded by the lords of the council on the wishes of their King, to keep to her own rooms before the signs of the fever came upon her. Alone in her room with Lady Baldgwyn, her sickness came on hard. The hours that followed were harder than her attendants had anticipated.</p><p>“What if she takes ill? The Queen?” Lothiriel asked, suddenly, the thick blanket she pulled around her doing little against the chill coming over her, as she tried again to raise from the bed, her weak legs doing little to support her, “I must to work, for she will want the healers out.”</p><p>Caelon leapt from where he had nestled at her feet, letting out a sharp bark at her.</p><p>“Then we will take that in hand as all other cases,” Lady Baldgwyn said through the scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face, trying to move the Queen back into bed, “You must rest.”</p><p>“I cannot! I have to go sailing,” Lothiriel replied, wincing at the ache in her bones, “It is necessary that the people see that I am well.”</p><p>The hound settled his weight over her stomach, somehow aware that his mistress was meant to stay in bed and doing his best to help in his endeavor.</p><p>“Of course, and you will later,” Lady Baldgwyn pressed the cold cloth against Lothiriel’s brow, noting her mental state, and nudging Caelon to move his weight some.</p><p>“But the rain will come,” Lothiriel groaned, reaching for the water, not seeing the look between the ladies as they debated what to do, “I want the rain now, please have it sent.”</p><p>Her chill turned to fever and back again, but the pain in her head and neck was all but unbearable, and the ladies of her house had been sequestered to be observed if they had as well been infected, only the Lady Baldgwyn, and the handmaid in her service staying with her through the night. They had agreed to sleep in turns, but they neither were able to rest long. If Lothiriel lasted the night, there was a good hope that she would live.</p><p>“Where is he?” Lothiriel asked, her voice weak as Heohild held a damp cloth against her throat, making no answer.</p><p>Heohild's eyes over her own scarf, not as fine as the lady's watched Lady Baldgwyn mix some herbs together that might aid in the painful spasms that racked the small frame of their queen.</p><p>“He must ensure that the horses are let to exercise before the foaling,” Lothiriel said her head turning on the pillow, “and that he must remarry.”</p><p>“No one is remarrying, my lamb,” Lady Baldgwyn said, gently picking Lothiriel’s head up from the pillow to drink the brew she had been making, “Drink it all down now.”</p><p>Lothiriel coughed, some dregs of the tea spilling from her lips, she grasped Lady Baldgwyn’s aged hand, “If I do not recover, the King must remarry. Promise to see that he does. He is such an irritable goat if not given attention.” Her eyes were clear and focused for a single moment.</p><p>Lady Baldgwyn smoothed her free hand over Lothiriel’s brow, making no reply, and praying that she would recover well and quickly.</p><p>Lothiriel violently kicked the covers away, before stilling, and groaning her pain and weariness, her eyes bleary again, “Has the evening meal yet been served? The King will want salted meats, but he cannot have it. Too much salt will do him no good.”</p><p>“I will tell them so,” Lady Baldgwyn smiled as well as she could, pressing her hand gingerly to Lothiriel’s shoulder as another spasm came over her.</p><p>“Should he not be back yet?” Lothiriel asked at long last when the shaking stopped in her muscles, “Where is my husband?” Lothiriel sounded so pained in her question that it wrenched the older lady’s heart, “Why does he not come home? Have I acted wrongly that he keeps himself away from me?”</p><p>Lady Baldgwyn stepped back from the bed and looking through the window at the darkening night as a low lullaby spilled from the queen, only turning back when she fell silent. Fear had hooked itself in her breast as she hurried back to see that Lothiriel still lived, holding her fingers against the side of Lothiriel's neck.</p><p>“She is only sleeping,” Heohild said, as if this was not a concern as well, though her eyes showed that she knew that Lothiriel could by the hands of illness not wake again. The maid kneeled by her bed, watching her mistress, and feeling more attached than she ought to have for the woman that paid her salary. She looked up at the lady, “Have they sent word to His Majesty?”</p><p>“Against the queen’s wishes and my own,” Lady Baldgwyn affirmed, settling next to the sleeping girl, and feeling her temperature again, and pulling the covers over her against the chill. Perhaps the warmth would push the fever further and break it, or else it would make things worse. She remembered the last coming of the Sweating Sickness, and had learned little enough of its treatment, for it hardly ever stayed long enough for any treatment beyond the remedial remedies of fever and muscle pain. “Her will is strong, and she will live,” she said with more certainty than she felt.</p><p>At least when the fever took her mind, she seemed not too far gone to delusions as others they had seen. One man had needed to be strained when he claimed his wife’s dead mother was standing by him as a lavender goat, and clearly meant him some ill.</p><p>“What will come if she does not wake?” Heohild asked, voicing the concern on both women’s minds.</p><p>“We must not dwell on that,” Lady Baldgwyn said firmly, her gaze harder than she ought to have given. She would not let herself consider too long that her charge would die. She had already begun to craft the teasing jabs she would give the queen when her strength returned that she ought to be given some high honor for tending the queen so regularly since their first meeting. She turned a calm eye over the sleeping queen, and almost smiled at the dog, still awake and watching his mistress, with a low whine as his snoot nudged her leg.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Had Eomer not been made King, and been only marshal still, a few of his men would have thrown themselves on him until the fire of his rage was snuffed out, or at least brought into control, but they stood by, even those that knew him best, hesitated when the messenger that had met the rider from Edoras came and gave the news.</p><p>Heruwulf was among the youngest of their riders could not have brought good news for the paleness of his face as he approached, “The sickness seems to be abating, my lord, and we will be able to return soon,” he started, a nervous tremor in his voice, “and your wife, Her Majesty, The Queen has indeed taken to her rooms, my lord, as you wished.”</p><p>Eomer’s brow kept the darkness of a man waiting for the ill news to follow the good, held out in hope of holding back despair or anger.</p><p>The young rider hesitated a moment longer than he ought to have, clearly unsure how to give the rest of the message, “The people have been safeguarded for the most part, keeping to their homes, and kept fed by the stores at Her Majesty’s instruction.”</p><p>“Say what you are attempting to avoid saying,” Eomer said, his voice low, the threat of his temper clear in his brief words.</p><p>“Lothiriel Queen has taken ill, though she is expected to recover.”</p><p>Eomer stood with a surprising quickness for a man of his size, and with the silence of the air before a violent storm. His dark eyes fixed on the messenger, as he did his best to remember through his anger, that the boy had not made anything happen.</p><p>“Will they send word?” Eothain asked, doing his best to keep his eyes on the young man.</p><p>“They will send another rider tomorrow with news,” Heruwulf said, his voice still weak with an ardent hope that the King would not throw something at him or release some worse fate on him.</p><p>The King went from the hall, out into the open air, his eyes turned toward Edoras, though he could not see the city. He pressed a hand to his heart, keeping his rage as a comfort against the deep painful terror in his breast. His wife was ill, made so by her own foolish need to be helpful, and while he knew he should commend her for her selflessness, he wanted to rage at her for not thinking to keep herself safe. If she died, and he was not with her, he would regret that for the rest of his days. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, and comfort her, and cursed his fate at being so important that he would not be given the small simple entitlement to be not parted from her whom he loved before all others in this potentially mortal moment.</p><p>Eomer paced through the land about the city, remembering that only months before she had been there dancing under the autumn sun. Try as he might, his eyes could not pick out the place where they had lain together under that sun, with the carelessness of a new marriage, and a shared love. The setting sun over the grasses, and behind the mountains was now cold and would only serve to mark the beginning of his vigil, for he was still in possession of enough sense to know that he could not ride to Edoras, no matter how much he wished to camp at the gate until it opened.</p><p>Glancing back over his shoulder he saw a few of his companions hurrying to the stables, as if that idea that their king might flee to his wife had only occurred to them in that moment. Had his mind not been heavy with his own consternations, he would have found it amusing. He would go back to the hall in time, but at present, he could not stand the presence of the others, and their need to comfort or pity him, or give any other those looks made only by those that were certain such misfortunes would never befall them.</p><p>After almost two hours, he returned to the hall, saying not a word, but making a plate from the supper that had been laid out, and going to tell Halfred to bring him some whiskey. He went to his chambers and settled in front of the fire. He spent the night drinking more than would be considered wise, but also seemed the only chance he might have at sleeping, if sleep would come at all.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel opened her eyes and took in the bright sunlight coming in through the window, feeling clammy and the ache in her joints as she struggled to sit up, and was startled by the sound of Heohild’s voice, “Lady Baldgwyn!”</p><p>“Oh, child,” the lady stood from where she had dozed in a chair by the window, and she hurried to sit beside Lothiriel, pressing her hand against the side of the queen’s neck, checking her pulse and temperature, “Can you stomach some food?”</p><p>“I think so,” Lothiriel shifted to sit against the headboard, almost smiling as Heohild adjusted the pillows behind her mistress’ head and back.</p><p>“I will go and have some food brought, and have word sent to the King,” Heohild said, curtsying quickly, her tired face shining with joy.</p><p>“The worst is passed,” Lady Baldgwyn smiled, smoothing a hand over Lothiriel’s damp hair, “After you eat, we will have water brought for a bath.”</p><p>“Why should word be sent to Eomer?” Lothiriel’s voice was still weak, but the look she gave the lady was strong enough to ensure her displeasure was clearly understood.</p><p>“Lord Fulgar sent word as soon as you took ill,” Lady Baldgwyn admitted, “he put a vote to the council, and they supported the motion.”</p><p>“Have they been ruling in my stead?” Lothiriel sat up, pushing the covers aside, her face the picture of queenly rage.</p><p>“No,” Lady Baldgwyn held her shoulder in place, “They have adjourned for the duration, unless any pressing matters present. Now, you must rest, Your Majesty, and get your strength back.”</p><p>Caelon nosed at Lothiriel’s leg carefully, before adjusting his seat and curling at her side.</p><p>“He has not left your side but to be let outside,” Lady Baldgwyn smiled.</p><p>Lothiriel’s pale fingers scratched at the dog’s head, “I hope Eomer had not done anything reckless.”</p><p>“You know he will beat your brow without mercy when he returns.”</p><p>“If he does so I will let out a small cough and look piteous,” Lothiriel smirked, sinking back against the pillows, settling as comfortably as she could, imagining that her husband being kept in Aldburg by force, or worse. She had specifically asked that if she did fall ill that no one tell her husband for the effect she knew that information would have on him.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>The knocking at his door, racked him with anxiety and dread, even as the voice on the other side of the door told him that there was news from Edoras. He took no notice of the tone in that voice, for it meant little if he knew anything about the way people spoke to kings. He did not bother to dress himself beyond the dressing gown that he tied closed around his waist, hoping that the news coming would not break him entirely.</p><p>He did his best to keep the bleariness from his gaze as he opened the door, “Speak,” he said into Heruwulf’s young face.</p><p>“The Queen is recovering,” the youth said, with glee, “and is quite annoyed that you were told that she was ill at all.”</p><p>It felt like a blow, even as good as the tidings were that came, “Thank you.” Eomer closed the door, leaning back against it, trying to catch his breath. He would be home soon, he knew, whether he should be or not. If the city did not reopen by the weeks end, he would tear the gates apart with his bare hands. His relief at her safety was now replaced with his anger that she had not been safe in the first place.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the illness had at long last abated, and Lothiriel was satisfied with the health of the city, she lifted the quarantine and had word sent to Aldburg that the king could return to Edoras, if he was so inclined, and she began making preparations for the homecoming traditions. As queen she was well aware that this was all a duty, to welcome the men that were securing the safety of the country, but she as a woman and as a wife struggled not to think too long on her own excitement.</p><p>She had fresh linens put on her bed, and had mead brought for the welcome cups, and had meat roasted for the riders and their families to honor the time that had been lost between them. When the call came that the banners were seen on the horizon, Lothiriel asked that bath water be brought to the chambers, and she did her best to hold back her excitement and appear as regal as possible.</p><p>Seeing her husband ride up to the steps, all but throw his helm to his squire, and run the rest of the way up to her made her want to run to him, and throw herself into his arms, but she held the ceremonial chalice carefully, holding it out to the king. She had not ever done this before, and she did not want to make a mess of it. She smiled, her head bowed as he approached her, “Welcome home, my lord,” she grinned up at him.</p><p>Eomer’s gaze on her was intense, and for a moment her smile wavered, fearing suddenly that he was angry with her and would be right to feel so. He took the chalice with gentle hands, raising it in blessing over his men, and drained it before passing it back. Lothiriel passed the chalice to Gretta with a small smile before she smiled over the men coming up the steps.</p><p>“My good sirs, you are welcome. There is mead and food for you and your families,” she smiled politely, gesturing them through the door to the hall before taking Eomer’s hand in hers, looking up at him, “I have had a bath drawn for you.” His hand was stiff in hers even as his fingers curled around her hand.</p><p>He nodded, his gaze still a little distant, and he let her guide him by the hand, her anxiety growing. Her expectation of his return had included an embrace, and kisses, not this stony countenance, and heavy silence. His hurried steps to her had stoked a fire in her breast, though now she wondered if it was more because he had simply wanted to be alone.</p><p>Hovering back at the door, she watched her husband move stiffly, “I’ll have your squire come to help you with your armor,” she said, trepidation fighting for a place in her voice as she watched him, “or I can manage it, if you wish for help.” She was trying to sound coy, or alluring, but he did not turn his head at all.</p><p>He silently started on the ties and binds himself with careful fingers, not answering her at all, and she wanted to throw her face into a pillow and cry. It had been almost two months since she had last seen him, and he reacted to her presence as if it did not exist at all. She had known he would be irritated with her allowing herself to be infected, and to fall ill, but she had thought that seeing her recovered would act as a balm to that offence, minute as it might have been. Not sure what else to do, she went to ensure that the towels had been warmed and that the water was hot, and came back into the room, feeling the thick silence between them, pressing against her chest. He did not even turn his head in her direction, dropping his armor on the floor, still not looking to her at all.</p><p>“I will leave you, my lord,” she said, keeping her voice as level as she could manage it, holding back her misery, and forced herself to sound cheerful as she turned to go to the door. It opened a few inches before his large hand pressed against the wood of the door, shoving it firmly closed. She could feel him standing behind her, a wall built of flesh and muscle blocking her in her place a moment before he backed from her again. It might have been exciting, if she could not feel the rage radiating from him, if some other passion was there in its stead, and his hands did not seem determined to keep from her. As quickly as he was there, she could feel him move away from her, pulling his mail shirt over his head.</p><p>Lothiriel took her shoes carefully off, and sat on the foot of the bed, folding her hands in her lap, looking down at her fingers, her stockinged feet dangling in the air. She felt so small.</p><p>“You are not to do anything so foolhardy again,” his voice was icy when he finally spoke. He stood there a moment, his gaze boring a painful hole in her heart, “Do you understand me?”</p><p>She kept her eyes on her hands, on her wedding band, not answering. By law, he could order her however he wished, but she had thought that their marriage would not be that sort of union. How many days had he stoked this rage?</p><p>“Do you understand me?” he repeated, his voice lower in register, and she could almost feel the snarl in it.</p><p>She looked back up at him, her eyes misting as she looked at him, her jaw set hard as she stared back, daring him to tell her what else she should have done, and daring him to stand firm in his hypocrisy, “Next time, I will be the Queen that sits safe in her hall while our people die,” she said, her voice cracking a little as she gave his own argument back to him.</p><p>He seemed to falter a moment before his rage came back, but she could see the fear in his eyes in that brief moment. “We have healers for that, and they are not my queen. If you are so prepared to put me through the wringer of that experience again, I will have you locked away every time I leave this city.”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> terrifying, is it not?” she asked, her chin tilting up as a tear rolled down the side of her cheek.</p><p>“And you will die to prove your point to me?” he demanded, his voice coming out louder than he likely meant it to. He stalked to where she sat, towering over her, “You can only fight an enemy that you can see. You would go without a care into a battle with no true way to fight, and I will not have it, little princess.”</p><p>She frowned back, biting down on her back teeth as she glared at him not sure she could stop the tears much longer. She had barely held herself together through his long absence, constantly battling her own self-doubt, and this alone would break her to pieces, and she was not sure if he would feel ashamed by it, or if he would be smug in his rightness. As she started to stand, his hands caught her arms a little roughly.</p><p>“You will not be avoiding this talk just because you are uncomfortable with being called out for being so carelessly stupid,” he said, his face stooping close to her, “I will have your assent, or I will sleep elsewhere until you see the sense of my demands.”</p><p>Her small hand lifted, and she had to check herself from shoving him or beating at his chest and face. She rested the hand over his heart, “Let me loose, please,” she said, her voice sounding so small, and weak and she hated herself for it. She would be as cross as he was if he had been so careless by his actions, but she hadn’t expected him to be so callous in his anger.</p><p>She had kept the city alive, and this was her reward for it. She had let him go to go fight some minor threat, and she had saved lives, and comforted others as they died, and her husband seemed to take no notice of it beside his own anger. She felt so cold, the chill of her own dread and emptiness coming on.</p><p>His hands softened on her arms, the realization that he had reduced his wife to tears ripped Eomer apart as it came to him, and he did not know why he had been so cavalier with his rage to the one person that he should have been kinder to. What had he done, and why had he done it? He looked at her, seeing her for the first time, and the feeling of worthlessness swamped him. He loved that dress, the dark red velvet complimenting the golden tones of her brown skin, and she had chosen it for that purpose, and that he could manage the silk laces at the back easily, and for he had remarked on the softness of it under his hands.</p><p>“Lothiriel,” he started, feeling all the more a fool that he had robbed her of his homecoming as much as he had robbed himself, it not perhaps more.</p><p>“Your bath will be cold, if you do not get to it,” she said, her voice still small and shaking, as she pulled loose from his hands. She wanted to curl up in a corner as soon as he was out of the room and either collect herself or let herself tumble further into the relief that tears would give her.</p><p>Perhaps she shouldn’t have awoken after all, perhaps she should have taken more deadly ill and she could have remained in his affections, even if it was as a martyr. No that was too far, and if he knew that thought had even flashed for a moment in her mind…</p><p>She twisted the ring on her finger slowly, trying to breathe, “I am sorry to have displeased you, my lord. I only thought to do what I could to help.” Her skin was burning, not in the way she had hoped it would on his return, but with a deep shame.</p><p>“I would not have coped had you passed,” Eomer said, the ire in his voice diminishing, “if you had died, and I could not have been here to… I only ask that you do not ask me to face such a thing again.”</p><p>She did not turn back to him yet, the tears coming silently down over her cheeks, not trusting her voice to keep itself steady if she tried to speak. Of course, she knew the reason for his rage, and she had thought that the softer voice, and his putting his feelings to words would soothe her, but it had the opposite effect as the dam broke in her heart. Perhaps he would do as she had meant to in the long lack of attention and go to his bath and let her wipe her eyes and get the puffiness down. Her chin was wobbling now, and she wanted to disappear from the world entirely. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to regain her footing so as to avoid the tumble into the abyss of her sadness.</p><p>He was back again, and she cursed his ability to move so quietly, his arms encircling her so gently, his head coming to rest against her shoulder, “I am a brute,” he whispered, “and I am sorry for it.” He stood, moving her gently to face him, his thumbs smoothing the tears from her cheeks. He seemed crestfallen at the state of his wife’s face, “Oh, my love…” He held her closer, pulling her damp face against his linen undershirt, smoothing his hand over her hand, “I am sorry. I am proud of you, you know that I am, but I am not accustomed to fearing for a wife. I would have thought my sister would have prepared me, but I find that it had not quite.” There had been few enough reprieves in the time he had known her, near a year now, from the anxiety of her safety.</p><p>“Do not talk to me like that ever again,” she sobbed, trying to sound a fearsome as he had, but failing.</p><p>“No, I will not,” he said, “I enjoy being alive, and I take that as a warning that you will slay me in my sleep if I do,” he tilted her chin up, “I should bathe,” His fingers smoothed over her cheek looking for the words that would make this better, “I have missed you terribly, and I should have said so.”</p><p>She put a warm washing cloth over her eyes trying not to sniffle as her husband finished undressing. She was glad that the maids had put boiling water in the tub, likely thinking that the royal couple would be delayed before anyone used the water, and they had been right in a way. Why was she such a baby? How could she not manage to hold her feelings in check by now? Eomer’s fingers undid the ties at the back of her dress slowly, and she wondered if he thought that he could manage to turn her mood to passion by some miracle.</p><p>“I would hate to have your pretty dress ruined,” he said in a gentle voice, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. She could feel his regret and tenderness in their equal measure.</p><p>She stood, and slid the dress off, and taking it to its chest in the dressing room, still feeling so damnably morose. She looked over her husband in his bath and stooped by the tub to wash his hair and his shoulders. Before he had left, this had been such a beautifully intimate thing between them, but she found her fingers move as if it was perfunctory, a duty or chore, even if it did thrum at something in her chest. Perhaps she should go through the motions as if nothing was wrong, and her heart would feel lighter. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his skin wash over her.</p><p>“I can sleep in the dressing room, if you wish,” Eomer said, drying his hair as he sat in front of the fire.</p><p>“No,” she said quietly, settling in his chair, and pulling the comb through the damp gold of his hair, forcing a smile, “I am your wife, and your place is with me.”</p><p>He peered at her, still afraid of the damage his temper had managed to wreck over his marriage, “I love you,” he said, trying to assure her.</p><p>She smiled back, looking a little tired. She had only been allowed out of her bed for a few days now, and she was still recovering from her sickness. The towel twisted over the end of his hair again to catch what little water could be coaxed out of it now. “I know,” she murmured, “I love you, too.”</p><p>He turned, kneeling in front of her, and pressing his hand to her cheek, and pulling her close to kiss her. He had not kissed her yet, since his return home, and he wished he had done it sooner. He wished that he had kissed her from the first moment that he was close enough to her to manage it, and he wished that he had not stopped, but he had put his mouth to worse uses. He pressed his forehead to hers, “I am sorry.”</p><p>She shook her head, “You are right to be upset,” she allowed.</p><p>“But not to such a…” he looked at her, “You are a good queen, and you were right, I know. I should not have…” he couldn’t find any of the words that might express his regret, “I fear that if I cannot protect you, I know not what else I can do.”</p><p>Lothiriel smoothed a hand over his cheek, gently, “In my own defense, you did leave the country in my charge, and I still have the royal seal. I could have you put in the dungeon until you learn better manners,” she teased, trying to find some lightness in her chest.</p><p>“Next time, do so,” he murmured, taking her free hand in his, trailing his fingertips over the palm of her hand, “and leave me there as long as your honor requires.”</p><p>“Well, I have always wanted to organize a coup,” she teased, “and of course I will have statues put up all over the country, but all of them different. Perhaps Lord Gimli’s folk would be glad of the work.”</p><p>Eomer smiled back at her, but she could still see the regret in his eyes. He leaned his head against her knee, wanting to hold her so in his arms, and to kiss every hurtful word away, but almost certain he would lay kisses on cold, prone lips. He could see that gutted look she had given him and thought he might see it behind his eyelids for the rest of his life.</p><p>“I will make the bed ready, my husband,” she said, her voice light and warm as she rose to turn the bedcovers down for him and crossing around the bed to turn down her side. He watched her feeling heavy as he stood and crawled under the covers, watching her go to put on a nightgown. He moved to sit on her side of the bed, as she went to sit in front of her mirror.</p><p>She could feel his eyes on her and remembered a piece of advice from Gadrien. She had advised her that one should never go to sleep angry. She thought on this a moment, her hand reaching back, and then stopping, “Oh, I forgot.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I have been doing this myself the last weeks,” her distorted face in the mirror looked back at him, a small smile, her head tilting a little in invitation. He always liked taking her hair down.</p><p>He felt a little lighter as he stood behind her, taking the small wooden pins one by one from her hair and setting them in their small box, watching over her shoulder as she dabbed the lotions to her hands and face in their turn.</p><p>“Why do you do that?” he asked, surprising himself, for he knew the answer, though found a hope in that asking her something so stupidly vexing might renew her favor.</p><p>“My ointments keep my skin nice,” she replied.</p><p>“Your skin is already nice,” he replied.</p><p>“Because I use these assembled ointments.”</p><p>“No, it is because you are young.”</p><p>“If I start taking care of my skin when I grow old, it will be far too late to do any good,” she retorted, looking back at him as he gently twisted the thick expanse of her hair into a braid, “You could use some,” she said.</p><p>“Could I?” he asked, smiling a little as his wife slid over to give him some space, patting the bench for him to sit. “Fine,” he assented, “But if I smell too much of flowers, my men will tease me.”</p><p>“And perhaps you deserve it,” she smiled, warming some lotion between her palms before smoothing some around his eyes and over his brow with gentle fingertips. She smoothed the remainder over the palms of his hands, massaging the skin there.</p><p>“I feel very beautiful,” he replied, his voice dry but the smile fighting to keep itself in check.</p><p>“I do not think I have enough for that,” she teased, still massaging his hand with practiced hands.</p><p>He quirked a brow at her, “oh ho.”</p><p>She grinned, quieting her laughter, feeling better somehow. She should feel angry with him yet, but she found it a difficult thing to manage. She leaned forward and kissed his lips gently for a long moment. His hands balled in his lap as if fearing that if he would lay his hands back upon his wife, he would know only reject as she would recoil from him. Withdrawing a small distance, she studied him, smiling a little, “make me an oath that you will never speak to me with such wrath, and I will consider that episode forgotten,” she said into the small space. He had already set the terms for any incident of a similar making with a penalty, and she knew that while it was a joke, he had in part meant it.</p><p>“I swear,” he said in a low voice, pressing his brow to hers, his hands still clasped in place in his lap.</p><p>She touched his hand gently, resting her hand over his for a moment before standing and climbing back into bed, going to snuff the candle but holding back a moment until Eomer joined her in the bed, not wanting him to trip or stub a toe in the dark. She blew out the candle and rested her cheek tentatively against his shoulder, wanting to offer him the soothing embrace of her arms.</p><p>“You would not really take to another’s bed, would you?” she asked after a long moment, only able to ask the question in the dark where he might not see her dismay.</p><p>“What?” Eomer sat up a little at the question, “Of course not. Why would you think that?”</p><p>“Well you said…”</p><p>“That I would sleep in the dressing room,” he finished, thinking back. Had he said that?</p><p>“No, you said you would sleep elsewhere,” she said, the timid edge leaving her voice.</p><p>“I thought the inference was clear. I would not take a mistress out of irritation.”</p><p>“Then what would make you take one?”</p><p>He could hear the teasing in her voice, “I cannot imagine it,” he replied, smoothing his fingers over her cheeks, pulling her lips up to his, “I love you, even if I do not show it as well as I should.”</p><p>Her fingertips smoothed over his brow gently up further into his hair, combing her fingers through the long damp hair before kissing him gently and curling closer into his arms.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eomer woke before Lothiriel did, and he looked at her sleeping face, her eyes still a little puffy. He kissed her hair so gently that she did not stir or wake as he climbed out of the bed, dressing and still casting furtive glances over at his wife. She shifted once, and he froze in place. She pulled the covers over her shoulder and nestled against the pillow. He pulled the curtains on the window side of the bed to let her sleep on as he went through the morning errands.</p><p>First, he found a page to tell the lords that he would not take council today, then he found Gredda to tell her that he wanted to bring the Queen her breakfast, and to fetch him when it was ready. Then he went to pick some wildflowers. He would not openly comment if asked, if he was making amends for some row, and he would not be asked. It was the one privilege the crown gave him that he would openly accept, that no one would ever ask him what he was going again.</p><p>“I tell you, it is the sweetest thing,” he heard Gredda speaking in hushed tones with one of the cooks, “he wants to bring her morning meal to her himself, and Heohild said he was out picking flowers.”</p><p>The cook laughed a little, “our queen is a lucky woman.”</p><p>Eomer slipped around a column, embarrassed. Why would they not wait until they were sure no one would hear them before they gossiped? The King of the Mark took a deep breath and did the only thing that a man of his status and renown could do, he slid back out of the hall, hoping that no one would be any the wiser. The worst part to his mind of hearing the servant women talking was that they supposed that he was a kind man.</p><p>He reentered the hall, being louder so that he might not overhear anything else that would embarrass him any further. Bowing his head, he took the tray and went back to their room.</p><p>Lothiriel’s eyes opened as he closed the door, “Good morning,” she said, stretching her arms over her head. “What are you doing?”</p><p>He settled the tray next to her on the covers, “I thought it might be nice for you to have your morning meal in bed.”</p><p>She smiled at him, “Thank you.” She picked up the flowers from the tray, smelling them delicately. “You must have been up early.”</p><p>“Not very,” he replied, taking his boots off carefully, and setting them back on the floor.</p><p>The cooks had laden the tray with pastries, rather than the healthy porridge that she had been taking in the morning, but she was far from complaining about it. She bit into the sweet bread, grinning at him, “Perhaps you should be angry with me more oft,” she teased, holding the other half out to him.</p><p>“Well, no one else heard me screaming at you last night at least,” he said, still feeling guilt for his behavior.</p><p>“You would likely have done something just as endearing regardless,” Lothiriel leaned on her elbow, “Do you have council today?”</p><p>“No, I sent word that I was not to be disturbed,” he stole another sweet from her tray.</p><p>“Those are mine,” she smirked.</p><p>“Such an offense should be punished with a hanging,” Eomer laughed, settling his weight back against the footboard, pulling his legs up in the bed.</p><p>“I will show clemency, for I am a wise and just despot,” she grinned, drinking her coffee, “Your sentence will instead be that you will have to bend to all of my wishes forever.”</p><p>Eomer bowed his head, “of course, Your Majesty, I am your most humble servant.”</p><p>With careful hands, she moved the tray to the table by the bedside, and crawled across the coverlet into his arms, pressing her lips to his with giggling ferocity.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>He traced a fingertip over her shoulder, smiling down at Lothiriel, feeling lighter, but for the regret that he had waited to make love with his wife. He pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, pressing her back onto her stomach as she started to turn to him, “Stay,” he said in a low voice, kissing over the faint scars under her shoulder blades. The quiet giggles came muffled over the linens, her body squirming a little under his attention. “I have much time to make up for,” he whispered against her shoulder.</p><p>Lothiriel sat up, settling back into his arms, kissing him, feeling safe, and happier than she had in weeks. He pushed her back against the pillows, kissing her passionately.</p><p>There was a knock on the door and Eomer broke away from her lips, “Go away!” he yelled at the door.</p><p>“What if it is important?” Lothiriel pinched his arm, chiding him through the wide smile on her face.</p><p>“I sent word to my councilors that if they want me to attend at the table, their tidings had best be important enough to risk physical violence,” Eomer smirked, that wolfish look back in his eyes.</p><p>Running her hands through his hair, Lothiriel shook her head, “What am I going to do with you?”</p><p>“I might have a few ideas, should you wish for recommendations.”</p><p>The knock was back at the door, a little more tentative.</p><p>Eomer groaned with irritation, “What?”</p><p>“Will Your Highnesses be wanting your midday meal?” Heohild’s voice called outside of the room, and Lothiriel could only imagine how short the straw must have been drawn by her handmaid to be saddled with this duty.</p><p>“Yes please,” Lothiriel called back, trying not to giggle as Eomer pressed his face back against the side of her neck, “Thank you.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Heohild went back to the kitchen structure a little down the hill, smiling a little to herself. “They will eat in the Royal Chamber, and I would guess they would take their supper thus as well.” She sat back in the small room that the servants used to take their meals, picking up the shift that she had been busying herself at mending.</p><p>“They cannot stay in there all day,” Gredda muttered, slicing an apple on the tabletop.</p><p>Leofwena and Ceolryth, a pair of the chambermaids shot a look between each other, giggling.</p><p>Gredda shot them a hard look, “I would not dare to imagine what you find so amusing, but I should think it wise that you wipe those smiles off of your faces at once.”</p><p>Heohild kept her eyes on her work, making no comment, even after the departure of the Keeper of the House left the servants dining room, and the gossip started. She only smiled blandly at any leading statements directed at her. Her discretion was a point of pride with her, and she would not speak out of her place on any matter. She had become rather used to people of means approaching her with friendliness and meaning to gain some information from her either about the royal couple, or whether the Queen might be expected to make an announcement, or any number of other questions.</p><p>Lothiriel Queen paid her well, and was kinder than most mistress’ she knew of, the only one that she had before, had been less than kindly. She was happy to tell Lothiriel about the goings on about Edoras, but she wondered if it would do to tell the Queen how much gossip there was about her.</p><p>For her part, she was simply pleased that her ladyship seemed happy at present. Heohild had heard Eomer King’s raised voice the night before as she had passed the door of the chamber, meaning only to assure that there was no need for her services, and had recoiled at once.</p><p>Had conditions between her mistress and the King not improved she would confide in Lady Baldgwyn, who seemed to care genuinely for the Queen, and might take it in hand to approach His Majesty. She could not imagine why she was so irritated on her mistress’ behalf. Lothiriel Queen had been foolish, but her heart had been in the right place, and she was young, and Heohild could almost still hear Lothiriel’s voice, in the delusion of her fever begging for her husband to come and sobbing at thinking she had given some offence.</p><p>Heohild knew that she should not care so much, but she did still, try as hard as she did not to care for her mistress beyond her professional responsibility.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel read from one of her thin poetry books, in that elvish tongue that Eomer did not understand, but that he loved, if only for the way that language sounded coming from between his wife’s lips, and how the vibrations of those words felt against his cheek as he kept his head rested against her chest. She shifted at one point, and he sat up for a moment and poured her another glass of wine, before putting his head against her hip, nestling and curling his arm around her waist. She stroked her fingers through his hair, feeling as if there had never been any tension between them.</p><p>She took a drink of wine, closing the book carefully, “You must tell me the fun that you had with your riders. What mischief did you all get into?”</p><p>“The pinnacle of our adventure was trying to stop the younger riders from playing catch with any of the family heirlooms,” Eomer admitted, “Having the charge of an Eored has fully prepared me for fatherhood.”</p><p>Lothiriel smiled down at him, “So you all were running through our house wreaking havoc? Please tell me the house still stands at least.”</p><p>“I made them scrub the floors when I was irritated.”</p><p>“Excellent. We should next have them clean the tapestry collection, or would that be too far outside of their duties?”</p><p>“While they are at that charge, we could also have them polish the wood beams!” Eomer grinned.</p><p>“Am I able to command your riders? The maintenance to the roof would be done much quicker if I could throw them all up there.”</p><p>“Is there an issue with the roof at Aldburg?” Eomer asked, concern coming on.</p><p>“At some point in the next few years,” Lothiriel said, slowly, “I would have them fetch my books, but you did not want any business today.”</p><p>“No, there were far more pressing duties, my love,” he sat up a little and kissed her again, feeling relaxed, if a little dehydrated, but he was happy as he nuzzled against her skin.</p><p>She rolled her eyes, but smiled, not wishing to discourage him in the least. She had been quite pleased thus far with his behavior and had been far from quiet on the account of her joy, or that she had been pleased thus far, secretly fearing as ever that someone might have heard her. By this point, months into her marriage, she had given up explaining to Eomer how embarrassing such a thing might be for her, and so she held the nerves of it inside her mind. The people of Rohan were far less prudish than her own country-folk on the matter of marriage, and what came with the union of people, and Eomer had assured her than if anyone did hear her, they would go about their business with little enough thought to it.</p><p>The greater concern on her mind was whether he would sleep, as she was growing weary, and was not sure how much longer she would be able to stay awake.</p><p>Eomer reached over her for the wine, taking a drink before settling back into her arms, “I will need to return to the duties of state tomorrow.”</p><p>“I know,” she murmured, “and I will need to return to my own.”</p><p>He wondered if she would rather keep the Seal of Kingship in her hand, and if it would not be better to let her rule in his place, but while he complained to his wife, it was not right that he should turn from what was his obligation by, not quite birth, but still his.</p><p>He rested his chin on Lothiriel’s chest, watching her face, “I should hope that you will still give me your council.”</p><p>“Of course, my love,” she smiled, her eyes closing for a moment, “I should think you would know by now that I am not able to hold my tongue.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was too much mead, and it was given with the relish of things having returned to their normal ways. Lothiriel wanted little more than to eat and drink and take her husband to bed, but what she wanted and what happened as was often the case were two different things. Eomer had taken a little too keenly to drink, and she was surprised by how heavy he was. She needed help to carry him to their bed. When Eomer leaned on her shoulder, his weight was enough to almost knock her down, and she thanked Gamling for helping.</p><p>She stooped, smiling a little to herself as she took her husband’s shoes off his feet, his deep voice babbling over her head.</p><p>“I love you, so much, Thiriel,” he said, the first fully coherent thing to come out of his mouth in the last hour.</p><p>“I know,” she smiled, undoing the neck of his jerkin to help him undress, “I love you, too.”</p><p>“I have had too much to drink,” he said, as if this was a great secret that no one would ever have pried from him if he was not so in love with her.</p><p>“Yes, but you are King so I doubt anyone will say a word about it,” she teased, stroking her fingers through his hair.</p><p>“Did I shame you?”</p><p>“No,” she replied, confused, “of course not.”</p><p>He leaned forward, wobbling in his drunken state, to rest his head against her breast, his arms wrapping around her middle, nuzzling into her, his breathing a little heavy. Lothiriel kissed the top of his head and pulled back from him gently. She poured a cup of water for him and turned back to find him already sprawled out in the bed. She smiled and set the cup on the table at his side of the bed and pulled back the covers for him.</p><p>“Come to bed, wife,” he muttered as she tucked the covers back over him carefully, his hand catching hers, and pulling her down on the coverlet.</p><p>“I will, but let me get ready for bed, silly man.”</p><p>His arms tightened a little around her, clearly reluctant to be parted from her at all. He rubbed his face into the crook of her shoulder.</p><p>“Eomer,” she giggled, “let me loose.”</p><p>“No. You stay with me. I want to hold you.”</p><p>Her thumb found that spot under his ribs where he was ticklish and he leapt a little, laughing.</p><p>“That is treachery,” Eomer retorted, sitting up to try to catch her back to him, but he was too slow.</p><p>“Only a little,” she smiled over her shoulder at him, undoing the ties under her arm to let her dress off. She went into the dressing room to put the dress into one of the chests. Finishing her preparations for bed, she climbed under the covers, and nestled in beside her husband. He would have a headache in the morning, but she would not tease him too much.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer was not overly assured that he was a good husband, though there were times when he felt that he could perhaps be better. Upon realizing that he might be better to Lothiriel, he would then work out ways to make his wife happier. They had become a little more comfortable with the fact that being married, and being in a continual, and unbreakable bond that there would be disagreements. They had in the months after his unforgivable calling out of his wife found how to argue with each other without breaking each other down, and they had found out how to scream at each other and then slowly come to a place of irritable serenity where they could explain their feelings and come to compromises.</p><p>And as a married man, Eomer was aware that his chief priority in his life should be to make his wife smile. However, being that he was king, he was bound by duty. Lothiriel taking some small measure of glee in teasing him and taking ever more joy in assuring that he was attending to his work as king, as if he would forget to do so, and for wishing to be a good queen. She wished to offer her opinions on everything had asked if she might be allowed to sit with him on the days when the King of the Mark listened to petitions and cases of law. He had of course accepted her attendance and had meant to fit two purposes by attending to legal matters, and trying to find the most absurd cases, if only to have the petitioners say such absurd things that Lothiriel might laugh, or at least smile. The one major flaw in his plan was that she looked over the petitions with him, so Eomer had to hide the cases that he thought would lead to his wife giggling. That was currently his most ardent wish; that his wife would break her carefully created mask of regality.</p><p>They had been married almost a year, and he had not managed to find a case worthy of his wife’s laughter yet, and it irked him more than by rights it ought to have. Were he not constantly reminded that he was a king, and that he had more pressing matters to attend to he would send out a few riders and tell them to find the most ridiculous issue, and force people at the point of a sword to write petition, or else to write a series of petitions that might crescendo in absurdity.</p><p>The closest he got to such a response was when a wife suing for a disillusion of marriage made a debilitating insult to her husband’s abilities as a lover. The corner of Lothiriel’s lips turned up a fraction, and her breath puffed a little. Eomer had taken this as a sign of hope, for clearly the goal could be met. Eomer was fully aware that this fixation was juvenile, but it was one of the few ways that he could entertain himself while also being responsible.</p><p>His plans were thoroughly vexed by the man that came from Gondor as an envoy for King Elessar, and he knew he would be called south on some errand for the Gondorian King. Eomer mistook the tensing in his Queen’s bearing for her fear at being him being parted from her again. He reached the short distance to put his hand on hers. Her hand stiffened a moment before clasping his.</p><p>The man bowed low, and stood with an easy casual nature, clearly comfortable in his position as an emissary, and in the presence of royalty.</p><p>“Eomer King, I have been sent my His Majesty High King Elessar to ask that you uphold your oath,” the man said.</p><p>Lothiriel’s grasp tightened on his hand, and he almost turned to look at her, but stopped short, keeping his eyes on the man, and on his nose, which looked to have been broken and not well set.</p><p>“I will keep my oath,” Eomer held his hand out for the lord to bring the papers calling for his service.</p><p>Lothiriel’s hand tensed again in his. She raised her hand, forcing the man to stay in his place, she gestured for one of the hall wardens to take the pages and bring them forth, clearly not wanting this man nearer to her than necessary.</p><p>Her eyes stayed on him with a hateful ferocity, and Eomer could almost feel the rage pouring from that gaze. Eomer read through the papers quickly, a sense of irritation blooming in his breast before holding them out to her.</p><p>She looked through the words with a little more care than her husband had, and she read the planned attack with some confusion. They were to march south to Harad, and they were going to reinforce that the war was over and who the victors were.  Elessar had been discussing reclaiming the lands there that had been Gondorian before, but she had not been sure that it would ever happen in truth.</p><p>“We will ride south in seven days,” Eomer said carefully, “if that would be enough time to make everything ready.”</p><p>“That should be enough time to gather supplies,” Lothiriel said, breaking her gaze from the courtier. “I will put the stewards to it.”</p><p>“Queen hood suits you, my lady,” the stranger said.</p><p>Lothiriel straightened, her gaze coming back to him, “Lord Peldirion” she said with a cold voice, clearly having to reconsider the words that she wanted to say, and faltered. She stood gracefully and walked quietly from the hall back into the Royal Apartment, her folded hands shaking a little with rage.</p><p>“You seemed to have displeased my wife,” Eomer said, when he was certain that his wife was out the range of his voice.</p><p>“I am not sure what she might have told you, but-”</p><p>“We will have lodgings made ready for you, and if you would be so kind as to leave in the morning,” Eomer said, trying to sound as polite as he could manage to do, feeling ever more certain that he knew what the offense this man had given Lothiriel.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>His wife was working at her nalbinding with sharp intensity, her hook stabbing at the fabric as she worked, her jaw set so tight that it was a wonder her teeth did not break.</p><p>“Do you want to discuss it?” Eomer asked.</p><p>“I would like if you could speak to Elessar and not have that… that… I would like that he not be sent here again,” Lothiriel said carefully.</p><p>Eomer settled into his chair across from her in front of the hearth, looking at her, “Well, at least I know that your arm is ever true in its aim.”</p><p>She shook her head, clucking her tongue at him, “Do you think that there will be a year where I may have my husband without him having to run off?”</p><p>“I hope so,” Eomer nudged her foot with his, “I can call that rake out, if you wish.”</p><p>“You cannot. He is a diplomatic envoy, and as such is… He has the protection of the Kingdom of Gondor,” Lothiriel said carefully, “Any attack on him would be considered…” Her hands shook a little and she set her work down, cracking her knuckles a little, “and that is the only thing that stayed my own hand.”</p><p>Eomer stood, his hands rubbing the tension from her shoulder blades, keeping his own rage in check as best he could. What were the chances of the one man being sent to them that never should have been allowed near Lothiriel? He dropped a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the scent on her hair. He loved his wife and knew that he was more than willing to start a war with their neighbors over her honor, foolhardy as it was.</p><p>He pressed his hand against the side of her neck, finding her pulse racing under his palm. She took his hand and pressed her lips against his knuckle.</p><p>He settled back into his chair, looking at her, leaning his forearms on his knees, “What make you of this all?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“What purpose could Aragorn have to ride into Harad?”</p><p>“Those lands were ours, and he means to take them back.”</p><p>Eomer took a breath, “And by that logic, the Dunlendings would be encouraged to reclaim the Riddermark.”</p><p>Lothiriel looked back at him, “I do not see how that is the same at all.”</p><p>“And for that matter, Gondor could also try to retake this country.”</p><p>“Elessar would not do that.”</p><p>“Would he not?”</p><p>“There is no benefit to do so.”</p><p>“He would have our farmlands and would not need to trade with us. He would have our horses, and our strongholds, and then he would not have to call on our cavalries for aid. He would be able to muster the riders without any middle-man.”</p><p>“That is cynical, even for you, my love.”</p><p>“I have no love of war, especially when I see no purpose to it,” Eomer said gently, “Though perhaps you would think that I am overly critical of your countrymen?”</p><p>“The King writes that this is more an attempt to push the Haradrim to come to terms of surrender, and that if they might have a treaty for a full end to any irritations between the countries.”</p><p>“If you say so,” Eomer smirked, “but I would ask that you perhaps recall my concerns if there ever comes any sign of aggression from the south.”</p><p>She smirked back, “Of course.”</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Eorlingas Army was only gone for a near a month and a half, and Lothiriel wondered at the fact that she was becoming more and more accepting of the long absences. She had, before her wedding told herself that this would be her life, and she had always logically known that. The trouble of it was that she had not wanted to really believe it, and she felt a little foolish for it.</p><p>She went through her duties, fulfilling her obligations, and knowing that she was a good Queen, and that her life had prepared her to do what she needed to. There were people that needed her to work, and she passed laws and checking through the ledgers on every single one of her projects. They were not her projects, she reminded herself that to look at the improvements that they were making to the country were not for the benefit of her ego.</p><p>There were a few small groups that had taken to calling for Lothiriel Queen to be sent back south, to her own kin, and that Eomer King remarry to a bride of the Mark. She knew though no one seemed to dare tell her about this to her face. The council had stayed silent, though she was certain they were aware of the trouble, but perhaps they thought it would better not to risk the scene of telling their Queen that there were people that did not like her. Did they think that she would burst into tears, or did they think that she was going to fall into a rage and demand the heads of those that decried her? Both were tempting, she allowed, but decided to instead find them humorous.</p><p>Heohild had told her when the grumblings started, or at least as soon as she had heard of it, but did so quietly, away in The Royal Apartment. “I am certain that it will pass, my lady.”</p><p>“If I were pregnant?” Lothiriel asked, raising a brow at Heohild’s reflection. That would realistically force them all to keep their irritations in check.</p><p>“It seems they are of the opinion that you, being a fine southern lady would have kept yourself to what your kin deem appropriate.”</p><p>“Keep my mouth shut and my legs open like a broodmare?” It should not have amused her as much as it did. She was a queen, and she could only imagine the tirade her father would spit out if he ever heard about the ramble speaking against his daughter, full of class superiority and the need to remind the poor of their place.</p><p>“I am not certain that they would say it in such a direct manner as that.”</p><p>“Not to my face, anyhow.” She wondered if they had taken to putting out unflattering caricatures of her, and after a moment she asked Heohild to bring her anything that she might find.</p><p>There was little that could damper her mood yet. She would not tell anyone of her suspected secret until she was certain. There had been enough miscalculations this far and having held her tongue on the feeling that she was day by day becoming more comfortable with. But she stayed her mind from becoming too comfortable because she had been disappointed before. But it had been almost two months, and Lothiriel was afraid that her courses would start again, and she would find herself once again without child.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer had done his best to write back to his wife when he could find a quiet moment to do so, and she had sent letters. They had come in bundles over the weeks and focused for the most part on the goings on of state matters, and the rest of their country, with a few of those little touches that she always put in her letters. He wondered sometimes if her intention in life was to drive him truly mad with want of her.</p><p>He winced a little at the bemused way that she described what was being said against her, and knew that he should have told her when they had first started, but had not wanted to upset her over something that as far as he was concerned did not really matter. No matter what malcontented ramblings spewed from a few irritable men, he had no intention of putting her aside. He would give up the throne first but telling her that would likely send her into a fit. Lothiriel was not a hysterical lady, and as much as he did not like when she was angry with him, he found that he preferred her shouting to when she was silent.</p><p>He rubbed his brow as he reread the letter, not sure if she was writing as if this matter was trivial because she knew it was, or if she was making light of it because she did not want to let him know how upset she was. It was likely the former. She had never been good at holding her feelings back from him, even in her letters.</p><p>“Is all well?” Elphir asked, holding the wineskin to him.</p><p>“I am considering abdication,” Eomer said, smiling, “Your sister is a better ruler by far, and I might do well to give her full reign.”</p><p>Elphir laughed, “I would advise against giving her too much power. Who knows what she would do with it?”</p><p>Eomer smiled, looking away, still smiling a little. He just wanted to be back home, or else to tell Lothiriel to come to Gondor if he was detained by treaty negotiations, or even if he was not. Lothiriel would do better in the diplomatic field than he would anyway.</p><p>He had already asked Aragorn that he be released at the earliest possibility, and the reply had been at best mild. He had also asked that Aragorn find a different envoy to send to Rohan, and to keep that beast of a low lord as far from Eomer’s presence, which seemed to confuse Aragorn and his councilors, but it seemed that the firm look he gave the High King was enough not to have any of them ask for the reason behind his request. It was not his tale to tell.</p><p>Her brothers having heard of the mistake had each given their own ideas as to how to deal with that man, offering varying levels of brutality that he knew they were not able to act on in truth, but it seemed to comfort them. Eomer understood it, having done the same thing during his banishment. For not the first time, Eomer reminded himself not to get on the bad side of his brothers-by-law, dainty and dutiful as they were, he was not of a mind to face whatever foul ideas they might put to him if they thought he had not done right by Lothiriel.</p><p>Battles Eomer could handle and was more than ready to continue his life on a path soaked in blood, both of his enemies and of his allies, if only because it made him appreciate his home all the more. He had held his tongue as the princes discussed the ways that they would punish Lothiriel’s would-be assailant, not wanting to dwell on the darkness of the past, if he could help it, when there was enough in the present. With an absentmindedness, he wondered if he could take them all north with him and release them on the citizens that wanted him to leave his wife but thought that this might have been considered a war crime.</p><p>“What is it?” Elphir asked, pushing through Eomer’s thoughts, bringing him back to the present</p><p>Eomer let out a low grunt of irritability, “I am just eager to get home. I think I am getting too old for sleeping on the road.”</p><p>“No, you miss your wife, and there is no reason to be ashamed to say so,” Elphir smiled, “Even if she is my sister.”</p><p>Eomer looked away again, “How is your family?”</p><p>Elphir took a deep breath, thinking a moment, “Alphros has begun his lessons, Mithriel is a terror worse than you left, and Morfindor is teething. And Gadrien is actively plotting our lady aunt’s murder.”</p><p>“What has Ivriniel done now?”</p><p>“Nothing out of her character. When Lothiriel was the highest ranking female member of the family and in Dol Amroth, she could do little enough right. Now that she is far away, Aunt Ivriniel has given a much softer affection to her memory and will not cease in comparing Gadrien to the standard.”</p><p>“I might write Lothiriel to come south when this is over, for the victory feasts,” Eomer said, “but I think you lot should conspire to keep Lady Ivriniel away from her as long as can be managed.”</p><p>Elphir mulled over a question before deciding against it, choosing a safer path, “As if that has ever been manageable. It would be good to see Lothiriel, if she is willing to travel.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>The summer was hot even in its late stage, and Lothiriel was more than happy to ride out every morning before the heat came on too hard, even if she did have to take a troop of guards with her as she went over the plains, but the ride she now took was with a purpose. The Queen of Rohan was returning south for the first time in almost a year.</p><p>She was eager to take the freedom of riding at every opportunity while she still could, if she was right. It had still been her own little secret as she waited for the certainty of it to come to her. One more month and then she would be sure, and then she would have to have a midwife come and as eager as Lothiriel was to be a mother, she was not eager for having herself poked and prodded. Even if she had been assured that the midwife’s inspection would not be like the ones she had thus far been used to, the idea of it still made her a little nervous.</p><p>Eomer had written that he was glad that he was not needed to discuss any sort of treaty, since Rohan had not truly been at war, but that he was staying on a little longer to visit with Eowyn and had written that perhaps Lothiriel would come south as well. His request was written with the tone of embarrassment at having let so much time pass without either of them having visited their families, and that by the time she arrived, the Gondorian crown would be preparing celebrations.</p><p>She had taken a little pride in having given her husband a way out of the task that he would find so terribly dull when she told him to say so carefully upon his arrival in Gondor, having been more than a little nervous that the Haradrim would send their men into the Mark to lay a stranglehold on the joined armies. They were only bringing numbers to aid their friends, not to wage a war of their own making, though she was not sure if that would cause any friction between Rohan and Gondor, there was legal precedence for the action. She had carefully explained this to Eomer, taking out her notes, and smiling a little as his eyes glazed over in boredom.</p><p>Leaning her face back into the sun, she smiled trying to take in all of the heat of it while she still could before the chill of autumn came on. She had not expected to be as overjoyed to see Minas Tirith again, when the white city appeared on the horizon, for it had been a second home to her. She slowed as she approached the gates, a look of contemplation on her face.</p><p>“Your Majesty?” Lady Baldgwyn asked, pulling her mare up beside her.</p><p>“I am debating whether or not I should ride side saddle, or if…”</p><p>“You are no longer a Gondorian lady,” came the laughing response, “You are the Queen of Rohan, and as such should do as you please.”</p><p>Lothiriel laughed, “Then prepare yourself for my father’s disdain.”</p><p>Her initial reception to the citadel was blessedly not public, the custom in the south being to let honored and noble guests wash the dirt of the road away before bringing them into the presence of the court. It was not seemly for a King to embrace his wife so ardently in public, and Eomer being keen to keep his affections as private as he could, surprised her as he held her.</p><p>He smoothed a few loose curls back out of her eyes with careful hands before he kissed her gently at first and then less so, and Lothiriel gave no complaint.</p><p>“Everything is managed at home, in case you were concerned,” she grinned up at him when they parted.</p><p>“Of course, it is, I left it all in your charge,” Eomer beamed at her, his arms encircling her shoulders and holding her tight against him.</p><p>“Gentle, love, you forget your strength, or else mean to crush me,” she teased, a quick flash of anxiety over a possibility. She had been debating whether or not she should even tell Eomer but feared his disappointment if she was wrong.</p><p>“Of course, I am sorry, corenu,” he kissed her brow, unbothered by the sweat and dust there, “Come, I have had water brought.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>She was surprised that he had let her wash at all but was less surprised when he sat beside the tub, telling her about their victory, and updated her on the family gossips. His gaze when it passed over her gave her bared body a few approving looks. She wondered if perhaps he could see some change in her while she was not sure that there was one, even if she did feel a little softer, and a little fuller, her belly a little rounder.</p><p>“I am not certain I like that look in your eye, my lord,” she teased him.</p><p>“You do,” he smirked a little, as she gestured for the towel on the hearth, “I know you do.”</p><p>Her face felt too warm as she wrapped herself in the towel, smacking her husband’s hands away, “I am sore from the long road.”</p><p>There was a whine of indignation as he did his best to press a kiss against her shoulder, “I have missed you so much.”</p><p>“I know what you missed,” she laughed teasingly, pulling away from the embrace, “I need to be ready to be presented.”</p><p>“I will be quick,” he promised.</p><p>“You never have before, and I doubt you mean ever to be so,” she made a face at him, pushing him back by his shoulder, “Be a dear and fetch Heohild for me.”</p><p>If Eomer were not a King, or if she did not find his earnest yearning so endearing, she would have told him off for pouting, but instead she laughed, and kissed his hand.</p><p>“I love you,” she smiled up at him.</p><p>“I love you, too,” Eomer did his best to smile before he sulked from the room.</p><p>Lothiriel bit back her laughter, pulling her dressing gown on, and starting on drying her hair. He was too precious a man, she thought looking out at the sun. It was late afternoon, and her meeting would not be delayed. In her defense he knew her fanatical dedication to her schedules.</p><p>It took Heohild a little longer than expected to ask, “May I ask why His Majesty looks like a kicked puppy?” She asked, lacing up the green and gold velvet gown in the back with ease, convincing Lothiriel that she had not grown much larger after all. The dress was cut in the Gondorian style, the waist high on her ribs, and the skirt full and flowing. The sleeves were cut close against her arms rather than the long floor-length things that had been popular for years, but which Lothiriel had always found a bother as she always worried that they would catch on something.</p><p>Lothiriel laughed, “I have to present myself to King Elessar and Queen Arwen and am already later in preparation than I care for and would prefer no… distractions as of yet.”</p><p>Her maid chuckled, “In that case, I am certain he will forgive you.” Heohild gave her a quick furtive look, “It is still early enough, that it would not impede…”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>They were admittedly a little more casual with each other than was likely appropriate, but Lothiriel had not even said anything to her maid, or Lady Baldgwyn. Lothiriel had been so afraid of putting a jinx on it that she had not said anything to anyone.</p><p>Heohild looked a little cowed, “The laundresses may have been gossiping…”</p><p>Dabbing the hand lotion in place, Lothiriel winced, “My courses have never been regular.”</p><p>“It has been two months, my lady,” Heohild smiled.</p><p>“And I would rather be certain before I say anything,” Lothiriel replied a little curter than she meant to.</p><p>“Of course, my lady. I should not have said anything.”</p><p>Lothiriel shook her head quietly, “No. I would simply rather wait a little longer before I tell Eomer, to be sure.” It felt a little silly now that she was actually saying it aloud. The thought of the pregnancy not taking had plagued her the last weeks and had too heavily occupied her thoughts.</p><p>There was a strange look on the handmaid’s face, as if she had not considered that her mistress would keep such a thing from even her husband. While she would never comment one way or the other, Heohild was surprised that it had taken a year for the Queen to get with child, the way they both carried on. Heohild had begun to suppose that she would not be needed most nights after she helped the Queen dress for supper, but still stood by, waiting to see what the mood was between the King and Queen.</p><p>“My aunt once said that a wise woman says nothing until they feel the quickening,” Lothiriel said, her voice sounding small, “I have never done this before, had a child, I mean. I am not sure what to do.”</p><p>Heohild rubbed Lothiriel’s shoulder gently, comforting her mistress, trying to remember the pressure she might be feeling to give her new country an heir. It seemed to have been a point of irritation from those that called for her removal, and while the Queen have laughed at their impertinence, Heohild knew the young Queen could be sensitive to what was said about her.</p><p>The knock at the door made the both straighten their backs, “Enter,” Lothiriel said as regally as she could manage to.</p><p>Her aunt’s face was strangely a comforting sight as she hurried forward to kiss Lothiriel’s brow, careful not to upset the work that Heohild had been doing with her hair, “Oh, my dear girl, marriage seems to suit you! I dare say you have never looked so lovely!”</p><p>“Thank you, lady aunt,” Lothiriel smiled back, “How have you been?”</p><p>“Well enough,” the matronly lady poured some wine that had been put out for the visitors, one for herself and one for her niece when she noticed that she had no glass, “Though I must admit, your brother’s wife does not have your head for running a household.”</p><p>“Well, I am certain it is not so terrible as that,” Lothiriel took a small sip.</p><p>“Perhaps not, but I swear you ought to have taken more time in training her up before you left us.”</p><p>Lothiriel made no reply, certain there would have been some manner of complaint no matter how well everything had gone after her wedding.</p><p>“Did I hear that you rode into the city astride?” Lady Ivriniel asked after a moment of silence.</p><p>“It is the way of my country, aunt.”</p><p>Lady Ivriniel let out a small harrumph at that, “I suppose so, but I should think that at least the Queen of the Mark would ride as a lady.”</p><p>Taking a longer drink to steel her nerves, Lothiriel pondered the plethora of answers but decided instead to take a road that might shut her aunt’s mouth fully, “I have found that as Queen I am able to do mostly as I please. No one seems to wish to contradict my wishes.”</p><p>“For now,” Lady Ivriniel demurred, shooting a quick look at Heohild before going on, “What is His Majesty planning to do about those whining peasants calling for your removal?”</p><p>“Our current plan is to ignore them,” Lothiriel said carefully making it clear that any decisions were made between herself and the King, in agreement, together.</p><p>“You will never be safe without a child, and you would do well to remember that. Are you fulfilling your wifely duties?”</p><p>Lothiriel almost spat out her wine at the question, not sure what response she was meant to give to that. What did her aunt want to hear? That it was hardly a duty, and that there was a hardly sated wanting between her and her husband? “Yes, Aunt.”</p><p>The sharp rise of her aunt’s eyebrow made her wonder if she had wanted more detail. Lothiriel looked away, catching the look that Heohild was attempting to smother, her pale face flushing with suppressed laughter.</p><p>“Are there any… little potential pretenders to the heirdom running around?”</p><p>“You can report to my lord father that that is hardly a concern, and I have not yet been wed a full year.” Lothiriel, feeling a deep resentment at the implication, wanted to reach back a few minutes to the moment when she had been happy to see her aunt, and to carefully remind herself who it was she was so pleased to see.</p><p>“But only short by a month,” Lady Ivriniel cautioned, “Do your best to be a sweet and caring wife, and I am certain the matter will be resolved.”</p><p>It occurred to her in that moment, that her aunt was lamenting her lack of a spy in Edoras that could tell her what was happening. Rather, it was possible that her aunt had noticed something, and with a keener eye was trying to draw some admission out of her. No, she was too direct for that.</p><p>Holding back a laugh at the absurdly outdated advice, Lothiriel smiled, “Yes, aunt. I have ever endeavored to be a good wife.”</p><p>“Perhaps if you would put your time to that great matter, rather than your little projects, it would be more quickly resolved.”</p><p>“Perhaps,” Lothiriel nodded, having no intention of making any change in her life, least of all on the marital advice of her spinster aunt who seemed to have an image in her head of Lothiriel sitting up all night over her ledgers like a miser, and hissing at her husband until he went back to his cold bed.</p><p>“Were you truly so ill as we heard?”</p><p>Lothiriel was confused for a moment, her mind attempting to keep up with the rapid gymnastics Ivriniel’s mind seemed to push through, “It was not as grave as that, and I fully recovered in a few days.”</p><p>“And what did your lord husband think of your frivolous actions?”</p><p>“He was displeased.”</p><p>“As well he should should have been,” Lady Ivriniel smirked, “It took quite a lot to stop your father from riding north.”</p><p>They had not heard Eomer come in, and Lothiriel wondered for hours after how much of this absurd and almost humiliating conversation he had overheard, leaning against the door, a quietly smug look on his face.</p><p>“Do you need much longer?” Eomer asked, his smile softening as he spoke, struggling not to laugh at the startled look his wife’s aunt shot him, her hand pressed over her heart.</p><p>“Not much,” Lothiriel smiled back at his reflection as Heohild fixed a necklace in place.</p><p>He took Lady Ivriniel’s offered hand, and bowed over it, “A joy to see you, my lady. I fear I have kept Lothiriel to myself and deprived her family of her too long.”</p><p>“That is your prerogative,” Lady Ivriniel rose, regaining her bearing to the best of her ability, still clearly shaken a little, “If you will pardon me, I must see to other matters.” She left in a cloud of perfume and silent terror, Lothiriel finally letting out a full laugh as soon as the door was closed, and she was certain she would not be heard.</p><p>“You could not have returned sooner? I was desperate for a rescue,” Lothiriel pressed a hand over her ribs.</p><p>“Well, I must leave you with the mystery of whatever crafts and means you make yourself over,” Eomer teased, taking Lady Ivriniel’s abandoned glass of wine and finished it off, “was she badgering you terribly?”</p><p>“Not too terribly,” Lothiriel stood, “simply reminding me that I should be a good wife.”</p><p>“And what advice she would give to affect such a thing? I think I would shudder to hear.”</p><p>“Only that I should be sweet and demure,” Lothiriel cast her eyes, widening comically at him.</p><p>Eomer grunted, clearly finding this not worth further comment, he rolled his eyes and went through to the dressing room to change his tunic and fetch his cloak.</p><p>Heohild smiled and curtsied, “Will you be needing me later, my lady?” she asked in a low voice.</p><p>“I doubt it, thank you,” Lothiriel smiled back, and leaned in the doorway to the dressing room watching Eomer dress. She had been telling him to get a manservant for these occasions but had thus far had her suggestions dismissed. Lothiriel always meant to remind him of this when he asked her help pinning his cloak in place, but she did rather like helping him in the small way that she could.</p><p>She knew that he still did not feel as if he fit into Gondorian society, and that he still disdained the frippery of it all, but he did look fine, and they would be back in Edoras soon enough. He did not seem as discontented as she had thought he would, but perhaps seeing his beloved sister would act as a balm against the chafe of the ostentation. Lothiriel smoothed her hands over the gold stitching along the edges of the cloak with gentle care, smiling up at him, hoping that he could feel how much she loved him.</p><p>He stooped his shoulders a little to kiss her brow, one cheek then the other before pressing his lips to hers with enough tenderness to render her weakened. Withdrawing, he smirked, "We must get you to the Great Hall, little wife."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While they had received word before Eomer took the road back to war that Eowyn was with child, Lothiriel had not expected her sister-by-law to be as pregnant as she was. Being a princess of Gondor had blessedly done little to change her personality. She embraced Lothiriel a little awkwardly but happily, whispering in her ear, “Your aunt will not stop giving me advice, please save me.”</p><p>“I have already battled that dragon and lost,” Lothiriel grinned back, “I do believe she thinks I have not been doing my duties.”</p><p>Eowyn rolled her eyes, as Lothiriel made a show of taking her to sit, as Eowyn feigned fatigue, settling into a seat with some difficulty, adjusting her position</p><p>“How are you managing?” Lothiriel asked, doing her best to keep her eyes on her friend’s face.</p><p>“If I birth a son and heir, I mean to find a way to avoid this condition in future.”</p><p>“Is it so terrible?”</p><p>“I am unable to get comfortable,” Eowyn smiled, and Lothiriel could tell that she was happy, in her own way, “and I am quite tired of all of the constant attention.”</p><p>Lothiriel sat beside her, “And here I have thought that an announcement would garner me less attention.”</p><p>“What a foolish thought,” Eowyn looked at her a little more carefully, clearly thinking something, and not sure how to say it. “You know that Her Majesty Arwen gave birth to a son a few months ago.”</p><p>“I had heard, what a blessing,” Lothiriel hesitated before saying anything further.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Eowyn asked, her hand leaving her belly to touch Lothiriel’s arm, “You look like you have some secret or other.”</p><p>“Nothing so terrible as that.”</p><p>Eowyn opened her mouth to press her for more information but was cut short by the princes of Dol Amroth, eager to see their little sister. The Princess of Ithilien was pleased to see her friend stolen off by her siblings, if only for the careful way they looked after her, wanting to make a few introductions, and perhaps tease her to make up for the time they had been unable to do so.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Erchirion poured her some wine having succeeded in making introductions between his sister and a few ambassadors that had come from Harad, and was sure the family was pleased with the good impression she seemed to have made, speaking to the men in what little of their language that she remembered from school. She seemed to not be what they had anticipated in a Queen of Rohan.</p><p>“Have you missed home terribly?” he asked, passing her the cup.</p><p>“In a way, though I do have more freedom in the Mark,” Lothiriel grinned, thinking that perhaps she should have some wine bought while she was in Minas Tirith, “my spirited nature does not seem to serve as a dishonor at least.”</p><p>“Whatever have they been feeding you?” Amrothos teased, prodding her side with a finger, “You’ve grown plumper, or am I mistaken?”</p><p>She took his hand gingerly in hers before asking in a sweet tone, “Are you calling me fat, brother?” she twisted one of his fingers, just enough to make his squirm, smiling.</p><p>“Never! That would be a diplomatic disaster, to be sure!”</p><p>“I think our dearly idiotic brother was simply meaning to ask after your health,” Elphir said, diplomatically. He had spent most of his adolescence playing peacekeeper between the youngest siblings and had hoped for a retirement from that position by now.</p><p>The realization that there would be an unending string of such questions with the same aim from every soul that she came into contact with, at least those well acquainted with her to ask such things. No one seemed to want to ask outright if she was pregnant, as if aware that there might already be pressure on her.</p><p>“I am quite healthy, thank you,” she smiled politely, “your concern is as ever touching.”</p><p>“Is that how you have managed being Queen?” Amrothos asked, laughing, his tone gentler.</p><p>“I seem to have not bungled it too terribly, at least.”</p><p>“Save that small matter where you almost died?”</p><p>“Who sent word of it? I was not so ill as that,” she said, trying to assure her family piece by piece that she was not so foolish as she in fact was, “For I see no reason to bring that topic up at all, as I am clearly recovered, and that being months ago. Yet I have already had my ear bent by our lady aunt.”</p><p>“Oh, this might prove a good game!” Erchirion said, a little awkwardly, “Who do you think wrote to tell?”</p><p>She rolled her eyes, “My husband is ever concerned, oft more concerned than is needed, but the only person I can think that he would write to would be Lady Eowyn.”</p><p>“Who wrote to Gadrien,” Elphir winced his apologies, “assuming that we must have already known.”</p><p>“Is that why father has been avoiding me?”</p><p>“I think our lady aunt has been far from helpful on that account. She has been burdening him with concern over your position.”</p><p>She drained down the rest of the wine in her cup, coming to terms with the sort of evening this was going to be, and holding the empty cup to any of her brothers that might refill it, “Well, at least I may offer assurances on that. My status is beyond reproach, and were that to change, I would of course mention it in one of my letters.”</p><p>Elphir smiled shaking his head a little, then a strange thought struck him. He was not certain what exactly put it there, that last comment, or perhaps the look on her face at the slight smell of fish, or the way she was carrying herself, “sister…”</p><p>She looked at him, her face mild, but attentive.</p><p>“There was a matter, I wanted to ask about,” Elphir said tactfully, guiding her away, before asking in a low voice, “Are you with child?”</p><p>“Why is everyone so interested in that condition?” she asked, not looking at him, nor answering.</p><p>“Because unlike our brothers, I am married, and have three children,” he was looking at her carefully, “How far?”</p><p>She shrugged, “Two months, if I even am…”</p><p>“Have you told-”</p><p>“No, and you are not to say anything,” she said, a little harsh, “I will tell him, I just…”</p><p>“Go tell him now,” Elphir said, smiling, nudging her.</p><p>She frowned, “but it will change everything.”</p><p>Her brother smiled, “Yes, but for the better. I promise, and your husband should know.”</p><p>At last she was able to make her way to Eomer, a little emboldened by the start of the warmth from the wine. Her hand found the crook of his arm easily and waited until he had finished speaking with an ambassador before asking him to take some air with her.</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>“Yes, it is a little close is all,” she said, debating if she should say anything.</p><p>“You have seemed… not distant, but…” Eomer studied her carefully, “What is it?”</p><p>“Have I gotten plumper?” she asked, feeling a little cowardly.</p><p>Eomer smiled, “You have a lovely figure, wife. Is that what is bothering you?”</p><p>“That is not…” she hesitated, “I mean do I seem…” she couldn’t find the words, stammering, “Do you find me at all changed?”</p><p>He was trying to unlock the puzzle she was throwing at him, the clues making little enough sense to him, “Has Amrothos been teasing you? I am sure I can put him back in the river if it will appease you.”</p><p>She took a breath, lowing her voice, “I want to tell you something, but you must not say anything.”</p><p>“Of course,” all teasing left his face, thinking some ill had befallen her.</p><p>“Swear it.”</p><p>“I swear,” dread seeped into his voice.</p><p>“I am not certain, but…” she bit her lip, “I might be… plumper… for a little while.”</p><p>Eomer stared back at her, trying to decide what reaction she was waiting for. Had she already had enough wine that she was concerned that if she had put on some weight that he would find her repulsive? A little more meat on her bones might make the winter a little more tolerable for her, and he would hardly mind it. But how would that be a secret? Fearing he had stayed quiet too long, he decided on a reply that could have been a deathblow, “How long are you thinking?” He wanted to kick himself.</p><p>“Maybe seven months.”</p><p>What a strangely specific answer, he thought, but whatever made her happy, “Alright.”</p><p>She let out an exasperated sigh looking at him more directly, having given up on letting him in on her secret in a gentle crafty way, “Eomer… I might be…” she stared at him, wanting him to guess what she was trying to tell him.</p><p>“Plumper, yes, I think we have established that concern, and I love you regardless,” he said gently, resting his hands on her shoulders.</p><p>Her courage abated, staring up at him, not sure why she was so nervous to simply tell him, but feeling so anyway. The words, every time she had managed to put them in the right order, dissolved on her tongue before uttered. Those dark eyes were studying her so carefully, beseeching her to tell him more, if there was something to tell.</p><p>“Perhaps I am simply over tired,” she said at last, the only words she seemed to be able to manage, her fingers were gentle on his hand, “I find that I do not miss this place as much as I thought I would have. It seemed I lament the idea of it more than the reality.”</p><p>Eomer’s searching gaze softened a little, “Then you do not regret marrying me?”</p><p>“No,” she laughed, looking away from him and his stupid question, “I have no cause for regret.”</p><p>He clasped her hand, watching her face, still not certain that she had said all that had so disquieted her, or why she would keep it from him. For a long moment, he wondered if she had not pushed him away because she had become irritable in the several months that they had been parted since their wedding. The old insecurities came back to him, even as he fought them away. Had she perhaps taken… no, he would not let his mind fully form the thought, the fear that she might find someone else. She was steadfast, he was certain of it.</p><p>“I might see if I could speak with the ambassadors from Harad before we return home,” she said suddenly, “Perhaps we might trade with them. It would certainly be easier than buying coffee from a secondary source.”</p><p>He studied her still, whatever she had wanted to tell him, clearly passing from her concern. She had told him something, he was certain, and he felt a little foolish that he could not sort it out from what she had said. “Do you think they would be agreeable?”</p><p>“Well, they seem to be agreeable to the idea of money,” she smiled, looking back at him. She was quiet for a long moment, “Let us retire, my love,” her thumb worried at his hand distractedly, her shoulder pressing against his, nudging him a little toward her. There was a warm glow in the look she gave him, and his misgivings were washed away with that look, and he felt more than a little ashamed for them.</p><p>Giving a quick look over his shoulder, to ensure no one was watching, he bent to trace his lips against the side of her face, “I think we are expected to stay a while longer, my queen.”</p><p>“Would they miss us for a few minutes?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye, the hand not holding his slid under his cloak, teasing his side a little on a slow trail along to his back, wanting to make up for her inability to just tell him.</p><p>He was of a mind to deny her, had he not been intrigued by the look she was giving him, “It is a long walk back to our rooms.”</p><p>“But I might know a shorter walk, if you can be quiet,” she smiled back at him.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>They had been missed, but no one seemed willing to ask any questions, and her family had no real right to. By their understanding she had been with her husband, and as such she had been with her keeper, though there had been a few knowing looks, but those looks had at least not been malicious. Lothiriel kept her hand in the crook of his arm, an anchor through his personal imagining of what hell must be like. While he might take comfort that the actions that weighed on his conscious were done in large part to protect his people, and other innocent souls, if upon death he was found wanting, he would undoubtedly be forced to smile through a swarm of courtiers and make polite small talk.</p><p>Lothiriel had to be all but dragged over to speak with her father, who seemed annoyed that marriage had not calmed his daughter’s wild nature but did at least seem pleased that she was happy. Eomer did however note the strange way that the Prince looked over Lothiriel, but did not press the matter.</p><p>When they were able to politely retire, Eomer was all the more pleased for it, taking care as he helped his wife out of her gown.</p><p>“I might do better to find work as a lady’s maid,” Eomer said, teasing his lips along the back of her neck, smiling at the giggle he was given in reply.</p><p>“You would not dare,” she said after a moment, “If I would need to take over the ruling of the whole country, I am not sure what I would do.”</p><p>Eomer smiled, thinking of some other retort that he might give her, for another of those sweet little laughs, feeling the awareness of his shortcoming that only being so long in Gondor seemed to bring on. Lothiriel turned in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck her back arching just a little. He traced a fingertip along her side, refreshing his memory of each curve of his wife’s body with as much satisfaction as that gnawing little voice at the back of his mind.</p><p>Pulling back, he studied her, knowing that he was being silly, but still…</p><p>“Are you alright?” Lothiriel asked, smiling though the quirk in her brow was unmistakable.</p><p>He sat on the end of the large bed, looking into her eyes, “I thought that we agreed there would be no secrets between us.”</p><p>A strange look came over her face and she sat on the floor in front of him him, resting her back on his knee, her shoulders relaxing a little as he took the last few simple pins from her hair. He stroked his fingers over her back, feeling foolish as he bent to kiss her cheek, pulling her up to sit beside him, his arms wrapping around her, trying to gently coax out whatever she was not saying.</p><p>“Then, perhaps I should tell you, since you are right, and that I ought not keep secrets,” she said slowly, “that I might be with child.” She frowned a little as Eomer froze, the face against her hair pausing in the gentle kisses he was dropping on the top of her head.</p><p>His withdrew from the embrace slowly, looking at her, “What?”</p><p>“It is still rather early, I think, and I meant to wait… but I think I might be close to two months along… though I am not certain…” it should not have been so hard to tell him, and she still was not sure why it was, especially seeing the smile he gave her, his eyes wide.</p><p>He looked her over more carefully, now knowing what to look for, his hand hovered over her belly, a little rounder perhaps, but not much, and he had mistaken it for fat. Her hand on his was gentle, guiding his hand to rest on what she was becoming more and more sure was a baby.</p><p>“I have been a little ill, though it could have been a stomach ailment, or…” she shrugged a little.</p><p>“Why have you not said…” his eyes were moving from her belly, to her face, then back, “Lothiriel…”</p><p>“I suppose I did not want to jinx it,” she said, “What if something happens?”</p><p>“You should have written,” he was beaming.</p><p>“I doubt you needed any distraction,” she said, feeling a little more comfortable.</p><p>“Should you have been riding?” he asked, suddenly.</p><p>“I do not think it has done any damage.”</p><p>“No, of course not, I just…” Eomer looked a little flustered. Pregnant women rode horses, at least they did in Rohan, but he was suddenly overwhelmed by a protective urge to do anything in his power to ensure her safety and comfort. “Can I see?”</p><p>She smiled, a chuckling breath leaving her as she stood and took her shift off to show him the small swell of her belly.</p><p>His hand was so gentle as he lay it against that small bump, his face glowing with admiration, “Hello,” he said in a low voice.</p><p>Lothiriel smoothed her hand over his hair, watching him and his fascination at something so natural. She felt all the guiltier for not having told him sooner, but any offense at that seemed gone, “Let me dress for bed, love.”</p><p>“You need your rest,” he said, his eyes glinting, reluctantly releasing her, catching her hand a moment, just looking at her. They would have conceived a week or so before he left her alone again, and he was not certain whether he should be ashamed of that or not. She was smiling, and tugged free of his hand, and he silently swore not to leave her until the birth.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lothiriel smiled at the assembly of her family enjoying the fresh air, her father having extended the offer of a visit to Dol Amroth, and Eomer had accepted tentatively, shooting his eyes to her as if to ask if she was certain that she did not mind traveling further from their home, considering her condition. He was dear, and had become almost smothering in his new-found purpose, this being that any minor discomfort was to be dealt with immediately, whether she asked him to or not. He had been playing with the children until she had shifted a little on the bench, stretching her back, and in a mad panic had run to find her a cushion against her protestations that she was perfectly comfortable. She closed her eyes, taking a breath and trying not to laugh.</p><p>“Is he ever so attentive?” Erchirion asked, laughing, “I think he might set a poor example for any other husband.”</p><p>“it is a rather new development,” Lothiriel said, returning to the blanket that she was making for Eowyn’s baby.</p><p>Eowyn watched her brother’s retreating form with amusement, before she spoke, “I swear, I know not what has gotten into him,” she looked to Lothiriel, about her apologize for her brother’s behavior, but stopped short.</p><p>Lothiriel fixed her gaze on the stitch she had missed, taking the hook out and pulling back a row to right it, twisting the yarn back around her finger to keep the tension as she worked, not looking up or saying anything. She could feel the realization forming in Eowyn’s mind.</p><p>Elphir looked sideways at the women a moment before turning his gaze back to the boardgame between he and Faramir, “three… two… one.”</p><p>Eowyn gasped suddenly, sitting up straighter, her hand pressed to her heart, “No! You are…”</p><p>“Why have you not said anything?!” Gadrien asked, shocked, clearly knowing without Eowyn needing to say the word.</p><p>“I have not seen a midwife…” she said in a low voice.</p><p>“Why ever not?” Gadrien reached over, taking the woolen work in her hand, and pressing a gentle hand to Lothiriel’s little belly, her eyes wide.</p><p>“I wonder,” Lothiriel said a little sarcastically, staring back at Gadrien with some irritation, but not much.</p><p>“What’s happening now?” Amrothos asked with his usual confusion, trying to figure out why his aunt was hurrying over, and why all the women had suddenly descended on his little sister.</p><p>Aunt Ivriniel’s eyes were wide, “Why did you not say anything, even to us?”</p><p>“You did not ask?” Lothiriel said, more than a little embarrassed, “I mean to say, you started giving me advice, and I did not know what to say.” It was not entirely true, but her own conflicted emotions were far from the appropriate response.</p><p>“What you say is, ‘I have it in hand,’ at the very least!”</p><p>“I thought I should tell Eomer first but could not seem to find the right time.”</p><p>“Is it your husband’s?” Amrothos asked, teasing her. He winced at the smack Erchirion gave the back of his head, looking back to ask what the matter was, as he was clearly joking, “What? it is a legitimate question, and I would not be surprised if anyone else asks it. Her lord has been away with the army and now she is with child.”</p><p>“Yes, it is Eomer’s,” Lothiriel replied, a little shy, having not even considered that, and it seemed that no one else would be bothered to consider it either. The entire family were offering her congratulations, and sweet words of encouragement.</p><p>“How far along are you?” Eowyn asked, all but screaming in her excitement.</p><p>“Give her some space to breathe,” Imrahil said, his smile kind, as he pressed a kiss against her brow, “Congratulations, my dear girl.”</p><p>“Oh, for the love of…” Eowyn sighed, rubbing her brow in embarrassment.</p><p>Lothiriel turned her head to see her husband running back, his arms full of different pillow and cushions, “oh…”</p><p>Eowyn laughed, “Well, I would recommend you take it for all it is worth.”</p><p>Lothiriel nudged her, “he is at least trying.”</p><p>“Yes, very.”</p><p>“I was not sure which to bring,” Eomer gasped for breath.</p><p>“And so, you brought all of them?” Lothiriel asked, patiently, trying not to laugh.</p><p>He looked a little embarrassed, seeming to realize the folly of his endeavor.</p><p>“The blue one, please,” Lothiriel smiled, reaching out to him, “Eowyn, may I offer you a pillow?” She settled it between the bench and where her back was in fact a little sore.</p><p>“If you can spare one,” Eowyn smirked taking a few to ease her own discomfort, a wicked smile coming into her eyes, “You know, Lothiriel was just saying that she was feeling a little hungry.”</p><p>Lothiriel had to move quickly to grab Eomer’s arm before he ran back inside, with no further information given, “No, I am not. Your sister is teasing you.”</p><p>“Are <em>you</em> hungry, my love?” Faramir asked, with the soft laughing tone of a man that had accepted that the impulsive nature of his spouse was a fact of life to be accepted and loved.</p><p>“Yes,” she smiled a little pertly.</p><p>Faramir smiled, standing, and stared at the game board a moment longer, memorizing the placement of the pieces, “Do not touch anything until I come back,” he said to Elphir with a careful smile before going to ask his wife what she wanted to eat.</p><p>“Congratulations,” Elphir said, standing to clasp Eomer’s shoulder.</p><p>“You told them?” Eomer asked, grinning.</p><p>“No, your sister did,” Lothiriel said as if she was put out by the fact. In truth it was something of a relief, even if she had not been sure how to tell everyone.</p><p>“I am only surprised that you said nothing,” Eowyn shot her brother a look, “I would have thought we would have heard you hollering and running through the city. Have you sent word back yet?”</p><p>“I suppose there is no reason not to now,” Eomer leaned his hip against the armrest of the bench, his hand rubbing a gentle circle behind Lothiriel’s back, looking down at her for permission to tell the world.</p><p>“Fine, though I feel a little like a monster for having kept it a secret so long,” Lothiriel said, chewing her lip.</p><p>“There is little fault in being cautious on these matters,” Aunt Ivriniel said, “Especially considering that you are carrying a royal child. How will you travel home?”</p><p>“The same way I came,” Lothiriel smiled, preparing herself for the tirade that was certainly forthcoming, “I have been riding quite regularly, so it ought not be a problem.”</p><p>“If you have not spoken to a physician, how can you know that?”</p><p>“I rode Windfola every morning until my sixth month,” Eowyn said, “as long as you take care.”</p><p>Lothiriel smiled, tilting her chin a little, “Then that is settled.” She gave her aunt a quick look to quiet her aunt from saying anything further. The state Eomer was already in, she did not want him worrying over the possibility of miscarrying more than she already had done. She felt his eyes on her, gentle and loving. Turning her face up to look at him, she almost blushed at the adoration there, his hand stroking over her back, feeling the concern behind that loving gaze a little more sharply than she would have liked.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>They had both enjoyed the break from their work, such as it was. Riders still had come every few days with papers and complaints and Eomer with all the grace he could muster would sort through it all before hesitantly asking Lothiriel for her help. She wondered if he would be so overly delicate with her through the entire pregnancy, or if he would ease a little. Further, would he be this way whenever another child came? Surely, they would not only have the one.</p><p>But coming home was a sense of relief. She had forgotten how much she liked sleeping in their own bed. The announcement had already gone out that she was with child, and the midwife had come, a little grumpy at not being consulted sooner. One look at the young queen softened the irritation. Lothiriel looked a little younger than she was, and it typically made people want to be a little kinder to her, a genetic quirk that she took full advantage of from time to time.</p><p>Eomer paced anxiously just on the other side of the door, and she could hear his footfalls patting back and forth. He could walk quietly when he chose to, and in this moment, she wished he would have, for it only served to make his wife anxious.</p><p>Ceolhild, the middle-aged midwife rested her hands over Lothiriel’s small belly, pressing a little, her hands gentle, “The bairn feels to be about three months along…”</p><p>“Are there any precautions I ought to take?” Lothiriel asked, nervously.</p><p>“I would avoid any stress as best you can manage it,” Ceolhild said, smiling, “Do you still experience nausea?”</p><p>“A little.”</p><p>“You might try some ginger,” the older woman stood, giving her belly another glance, “And I know you might not like to hear it, Your Majesty, but I would advise you not drink any of that bean tea you fancy, and no drinks stronger than ale.”</p><p>Lothiriel did her best to keep her face composed, taking the midwife’s advice as gospel, “I have… the smell of fish has been making me feel a little ill.”</p><p>“Then tell the kitchen not to cook fish,” Ceolhild smiled, “You are young, and there should be no danger in this pregnancy from what I can see.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Lothiriel smiled, “Perhaps you might tell His Majesty so, and save him from wearing a path in the floor.”</p><p>As soon as the door closed, Lady Baldgwyn who had been sitting quietly by the window stood and went over to the little queen, bowing, her face bright with joy.</p><p>“Is there anything I might bring you, my lady?” Mistress Waerhild asked, smiling, and attempting to keep herself from squealing.</p><p>“No,” Lothiriel stood, her hands folded in front of her, “but I might go sit in the garden for a little while.”</p><p>Avoid stress indeed, she thought, amused, she would just send out letters to every single village on the continent and ask them all to calm themselves down and be nice for a few months. While she was at it, she might see if she could just send an envoy to the Valar and ask them to intercede on her behalf. She rolled her eyes and picked a shawl from the chest in the dressing room to cut the wind a little. It was still warm enough, but the first chill of autumn was hanging ominously in the evenings.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Word came to them that Eowyn had safely delivered a son, Elboron who was as well healthy. The chill of winter, and the time that they had spent in the south meant that they were unable to be with her when she delivered, and Lothiriel knew it bothered Eomer, even as he understood the reasons. Lothiriel felt a little guilty, having tried her best to find a way to manage it, but finding none.</p><p>She counted out the months carefully and realized that she would likely be giving birth in March, which meant that she might want to ensure their food stores were in good shape, even though she knew they were.</p><p>She had begun to wake out of a dead sleep starving for either sweets, or more often something stranger, as had been the case the night before when she woke starving for pickled vegetables and cheese. Eomer, blessed man that he was, always got himself up and yawning and still half asleep went forth to find her something to appease her appetite.</p><p>They had only been back in Edoras a few weeks, when he had asked that there always be someone in the kitchen in the case something was needed. He could cook well enough for his own purposes but feared starting a fire in his half-awake state, or that he would disturb whatever system their cooks had in the ordering of the pantry.</p><p>Bringing her the tray with her bizarre request on it, he settled back under the covers, a little too awake to sleep yet, but a little transfixed by her smearing cheese on the pickled vegetables, wondering if it was a good combination, but also not wanting to risk it.</p><p>“This little Eorlinga is a strange one,” she murmured, her hand rubbing over her belly, “and what is worse, I do not think this is as bad as it ought to be.”</p><p>Eomer smiled, reaching out to rest a hand over her belly, “Well, it is your child, so a measure of oddness is expected.”</p><p>She smacked his arm, “Hush.”</p><p>“We’ll have to kick Caelon out of his room,” Eomer said, his voice still a little thick with interrupted sleep, “he has been sleeping in what is meant to be the nursery.”</p><p>Of course, he had been, and Lothiriel had known that and found it amusing and had said nothing, even if Gredda had not looked pleased at all.</p><p>“Perhaps he could just share,” she suggested, “his loyalty would be an asset.”</p><p>He chuckled silently, sitting up and kissing her belly, then her temple, “I have to be up early tomorrow. Don’t leave the candle lit.”</p><p>“Alright,” she smirked back, eating cheese directly off the knife, and feeling just a little too pleased with herself.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>When she saw the blood, Lothiriel felt cold, and had grasped Lady Baldgwyn’s hand with a little too much ferocity, “You must fetch the midwife at once. Tell no one, not event His Majesty, yet.”</p><p>“Why? What has happened?”</p><p>“There is some blood…” she gestured vaguely about her person.</p><p>“How much?” Lady Baldgwyn asked a little to calm for Lothiriel’s tastes, and such a question.</p><p>“A little.”</p><p>“Then it is likely nothing to concern yourself with,” Lady Baldgwyn let out a breath that Lothiriel had not realized she had even been holding for she seemed calm as ever, “It happens sometimes. I will fetch the midwife to be sure.”</p><p>It had been nothing, and she felt foolish for her alarm, but the fear of losing the child had solidified that she did want it. She had been unsure and had not wanted to mention it to anyone. What sort of woman would have any hesitation at the news of a pregnancy? What sort of monster was she that she had viewed the life that she carried with such trepidation? Was she selfish for wanting to enjoy the freedoms her marriage had given her a little longer, for wanting to have more time with her husband to enjoy being together as a married pair without a child hanging on?</p><p>But she did want her baby, and she knew that she loved that little life growing in her already, but some of those reservations still pressed at the back of her mind. She thought to express these feelings to Eomer, but he was clearly so excited that she wondered if he would find her own thoughts at best childish, and at worst repulsive or unnatural.</p><p>He had continued to be the most attentive of men, and the best of husbands, and he had been so before she was pregnant, but some part of her wondered now if he might care more for the potential of an heir than he cared for her. That thought only came to her when he was not around or awake, of course, only when she was alone with her thoughts in the middle of the night. No, she was not really alone, her husband slept next to her, snoring a little, and completely unaware in his fitful sleep. He would still from time to time roll over and hold her, and she would not stop him until her girth made it uncomfortable. And her body would change, and she would be plumper even after the birth than she had been before. She had little enough admiration for her figure to start with.</p><p>She countered these anxieties with the fact that she was carrying the wanted child of the man she loved. She just still felt so young, and unprepared.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“The first is always the hardest,” Lady Baldgwyn assured her in a low voice when in the fifth month of her pregnancy, Lothiriel admitted to her aged confidante. Her face was gentle, “I have three sons, you know. It does get a little easier.”</p><p>“What if I am not ready to be a mother?” Lothiriel asked, still nervous.</p><p>“No one ever is, dear,” Lady Baldgwyn turned her nalbinding over to start a new row.</p><p>Lothiriel had asked if Lady Baldgwyn and Mistress Waerhild might sit in the garden with her, claiming that she wanted to enjoy what might be the last nice day, even if it was a little chilly. She had in fact wanted to get the thoughts into words and to someone other than herself before they drove her mad or made it impossible to get out of bed for the weight of them. She knew that most of the women in her little solar would not gossip about something that was clearly so private, but she did not want to take the risk of it. She was a Queen, and even here, a Queen could not be seen to doubt herself, even in a concern that Baldgwyn and Waerhild assured her was natural.</p><p>Mistress Waerhild looked over her shoulder for a moment before saying in a low tone, “There will be days when you will want to toss your little blessing down a well, and on those days, you have only to ask for help.”</p><p>The Queen’s grey eyes widened, “But, I will have a governess.”</p><p>“Even then,” Lady Baldgwyn smiled, knowing Lothiriel well enough by now to know that she would insist on a more hands-on approach to raising her children than she seemed to think. “You have other mothers here that will help you when you need it.”</p><p>“I might not always know to ask for help, or know that I should need it,” Lothiriel admitted.</p><p>“Oh?” Lady Baldgwyn looked a little surprised by this before smiling, “I never might have guessed so.”</p><p>“I am trying to be more open to collaboration,” Lothiriel said in her own defense, “so there.”</p><p>She did not say that she still needed to work on telling her husband of her own weaknesses and anxieties. She knew he would listen, and that he would do his best to understand. They had been together long enough now that she should not still have such reservations as that, but she did. She still shrunk from the idea that she might be perceived as weak.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer stared out through the window, not sure where else to look, thinking over the words Lothiriel was letting out, her vulnerability laid bare. He knew each time she actually let such things out that it was at a great sacrifice to what… her pride? No, it was not quite that, but yet it was. Her implications was such that she might be struck down by admitting that she feared at all.</p><p>The strangest thing was that she did not seem to fear the actual birth of their child, for she seemed to have an expectation that this would not be the end of her so much as the actual idea that she might not be the mother that she was expected to be.</p><p>He listened, sitting by her, his eyes keeping on her face as she spoke, trying to collect his own thoughts as she spoke, her voice wavering a little.</p><p>“And there it is,” she said, “I mean to try to be what I am meant to be by nature, even if I am not sure that I would be the best person for the charge. Perhaps I ought to have considered that before putting myself forth to be a queen.” She followed him with her eyes, watching Eomer on his way to the window. He could not cast her out, not carrying his child, but she found herself more frightened of the idea that he would be disturbed by her and withdraw within himself.</p><p>“I wish you would have spoken of this to me sooner,” Eomer said after a long moment.</p><p>Lothiriel sat quietly, her fingers worrying the end of her braid, her hands needing something to do, “I know. I just… I wish I was as strong as I think I am. As you think I am.”</p><p>His eyes turned on her, the quickness of that glass gave for a moment the false sense of irritation, but the expressions on his face was soft, questioning, and confused, “No, I mean,” he hesitated, coming to sit beside her face, “Has this troubled you so much that you would hold back your own thoughts?”</p><p>Her shoulders shifted a little, not a shrug so much as it was a reluctance to answer the question. To hear it phrased that way was an indignation, but only insofar that she had thought that she would never hold her own tongue, and yet here she was.</p><p>Those dark eyes searched hers, and he seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts, to find the words that might be right, but he still sighed a little quietly before he spoke, making Lothiriel all the more nervous for his silence.</p><p>“I know I was selfish to think-”</p><p>“No,” Eomer replied with a finite certainty, “I only did not realize that you felt so. Though to my own defense, I either know your state of mind or am completely left unaware.” He considered a moment longer, coming back to sit by her side, “I am your husband,” he said his voice soft, “and you know by now that I love you,” he looked at her a moment, as if daring her to offer a contradiction, “and I would ask you to point to the cause of your ideas, but I think there is little cause that might be expressed.” He took her hand up, gently, “I do not know how I might allay your concerns.”</p><p>The way he was looking at her was enough of a reassurance, somehow. Lothiriel took his hands in hers, feeling a need to comfort him, but not wanting to speak more than she already had, “I know that I am being foolish, but I only need you to tell me that I am able to do this.”</p><p>Eomer studied her, smoothing his hand through her hair carefully. He had, a year earlier, in the early days of their marriage, and in a small part before that come to understand that she wanted to seem determined and unshakable, and strong in her own way. He wanted to tell her that she was all of that and more to his mind, but that was not what she needed, and he knew that. He looked down at their hands joined together, and looked back into her pale grey blue eyes, full of shame, that was so terribly misplaced.</p><p>And he had no idea what he should say to her.</p><p>He pulled his hands gently from hers and clasped her cheeks in his hands. He was always a little afraid that he might hurt her without meaning to, and he looked at her, with a silent determination. Having felt that strange weight, that need, he was almost sure that no word he might be able to find would be enough. He looked at her, and kissed her cheeks, one then the other, and the tip of her nose.</p><p>“You are my wife,” he said, gently, “and I love you.”</p><p>Lothiriel felt almost guilty under that gaze, but she felt more over relieved in his repetition. She leaned into his hands, further even than that. She pressed her face into Eomer’s shoulder, and felt the tender embrace of his arms around her, “I know…”</p><p>For a moment, Eomer thought to ask her why then she had thought that he would not listen to her, but he did not. He held her, smoothing his hand over the head that reasted his shoulder, feeling foolish but for the fact that it seemed to calm her. “I should think by now you would confide in me more readilly” he said in a low voice.</p><p>“I know, and I ought to have done,” Lothiriel admitted, “and I have felt all the worse for it, I assure you, but… perhaps there is still something of my upbringing in me, that I should think that such feelings are not natural, and thus should not be voiced.”</p><p>She turned her face up to him and as anytime he saw any sort of sorrow in those eyes, Eomer felt a pinch in his breast, that feeling was no longer strange to him, and he had accepted it.</p><p>Though to speak now would be to-</p><p>“You feel, and there is no cause to concern yourself beyond telling me that you do,” Eomer said, smiling a little, stopping his mind from analyzing her too hard, “though I must ask, is there anything that you wish for? If there is, I will find it.”</p><p>Lothiriel giggled a little, pressing her forehead back against his shoulder, “No.”</p><p>“Are you quite certain? Perhaps you might like a nice turnip with jam? May I suggest some of our finest potatoes with a questionable amount of butter? We also have beans.”</p><p>She jostled him a little, “Oh, hush.”</p><p>“No, I am a husband, and my wife is with child, and as such, I must ensure that she is properly fed,” he smiled, in his own soft way, “even if it is only to ensure that I might sleep a little longer.” Eomer’s hands caught her arms gently, looking back at her, his gaze was gently assuring, in a way that Lothiriel understood, but could not put to words.</p><p>“Well, now that you mention it,” Lothiriel stroked her fingers over her growing belly, “If perchance, you might convince the kitchen to melt some cheese into bread…”</p><p>Eomer closed his eyes for a moment, meaning to take a deep breath, but finding himself laughing for some reason. He kissed her cheek, and pulled a cloak over his shoulders, “I am sure that can be managed, corenu,” He hissed her brow, “Now get under the covers or you will catch a chill, and then,” he threw a hand up, in a rather amusing attempt at being dramatic, “Lady Baldgwyn will yell at me.”</p><p>Lothiriel should have still felt a little ashamed, or at the very least, she should have felt that she had been given a stay of execution, but she just felt cozy. There was no way that she could have known that Eomer had the next day gone to the midwife, to ask for advice, with the utmost discretion. Eomer would admit it years later after a drink too many, and in response, Lothiriel would smile benignly and dig a finger into that spot that always tickled him.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lothiriel felt bloated, and too large for her body. There were moments where she wanted to be done with the pregnancy, to have the baby, and feel some measure of control over her body again. But then she would feel the baby move or kick, and her heart melted a little. The first time, she had not been sure what she was feeling until she pressed a hand over the spot where the shifting was, and she smiled, wanting to tell Eomer, but not sure how long it would last, and feeling a little selfish.</p><p>When they sat for their supper it happened again, and she snatched his hand eagerly, and pressed it over the movement. Eomer’s confusion softened, and they had sat there quietly, he stared in awe, his other hand joining its partner. He stared back up at her, beaming.</p><p>Every night before she went to bed, she rubbed a balm made of cocoa and shea over her body to ward off the marks that came with her body adjusting for baby she grew, and sometimes Eomer would help, rubbing the knots and cramps from her muscles. Her feet hurt the worst of it so far. Her ankles had become a little swollen, but not alarmingly so they had been assured.</p><p>She wondered if it was a form of self imposed torture for Eomer, to rub the balm over her skin. They had not lain together, in months, even when it was still early enough that it would not have done any harm, his anxiety toward their child far too pressing. She knew he still found her desirable, and that he loved her, but she found his self imposed celibacy a little frustrating.</p><p>It seemed, at least, that the country had decided to behave itself over the months until the child was born, and Lothiriel wondered who she should send a letter of gratitude to.</p><p>She had begun to sort the nursery, sweeping out dust and a few cobwebs that had taken up residence in the wide room with Mistress Waerhild’s help. She had done her best to become friends with Eothain’s wife and had found it a blessedly easy task. The young mistress had already had a rosy cheeked two-year-old boy and seemed more than willing to help Lothiriel sort through everything she would need, and had answered questions that Lothiriel's analytical mind had put forth, seeming not in the least ashamed to be in possession of such knowledge. Lothiriel knew that when Gadrien had gotten with child the first time, she had been completely without anyone to answer such questions, for in their country child-birthing was seen as a sacred secret. It made one saintly, if only because of the chance of martyrdom.</p><p>There were chests and tables and comfortable chairs. There were a few small beds pushed into a corner, under a dust cloth like the rest of the furniture and she had wondered if Eomer and Eowyn had slept in this room when they were children.</p><p>She found a small scratched image done in a childish hand on the back of one of the beds, and she thought it was likely meant to be a horse, but she was not certain. She traced a finger over it, and could almost imagine her husband, or his sister with a knife that they were not meant to have scratching that little thing in secret. She was not sure which of them had done it, but it was sweetly destructive. She had the beds carefully stored away, knowing they would need them at some point.</p><p>Their child would sleep in a little cradle by their bed, not in the nursery until they were weaned. They had not made any arrangement for a wet nurse, and in truth Lothiriel did not think she wanted one at all. She wanted to take care of her own child, and it was strange since she knew that if she had married in Gondor, she would be getting ready for her confinement, and that her child would be taken from her arms to be fed and cleaned, and that she would likely not see the baby as much as she would here. She now found that she wanted to keep the closeness with the baby, now that it felt more real.</p><p>They still slept in the same bed, side by side, or cuddled together in whatever way she could manage to get comfortable. She had come to realize that Eowyn had not exaggerated too much. By the seventh month, she almost did not want to dress in the mornings, feeling as though none of her clothing fit right, even the dresses that had been made specifically for her changing body. But these strange feelings and anxieties waned as she smiled, feeling her child, and wanting to meet them. She wanted to hold her baby, and to see what they looked like. She had started planning out an entire little life, whether it was a boy or a girl, deciding outright that she would not force their child to be anything but who they were.</p><p>They did not seem to do confinements in Rohan, though there was an expectation that she would rest a little more. It had been a relief that she would not be locked in her bedroom with the curtains closed as to not overexcite her. She was however more than happy to meet the expectation of resting more regularly and had begun taking long lazy naps in the middle of the afternoon, feeling a little like a beloved house cat lounging in the sun as she ate candied nuts in her dressing gown.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer came in from riding to see her nestled in the bed, the afternoon sun making her glow a little, the warm golden color of her skin making her seem almost to glow, and precious to look at. Her eyes moved under the closed lids of her eyes, the black fringe of her eyelashes looking as though they would brush her cheeks. She had thrown back the covers, as she ever seemed to do, one leg covered the other thrown out languidly.</p><p>He sat carefully next to her, not wanting to wake her, his hand hovering over her belly a moment before gingerly resting his hand on her, feeling the baby kick under his hand. He understood her misgivings, having had his own share of them, but he was so happy. He had his own little family it was his world.</p><p>“Your mother is asleep,” he whispered very quietly, having learned that waking Lothiriel was a dangerous and foolhardy mission. “I went for a ride, and I can hardly wait to teach you to do so. We have so many horses here, and you are going to love it.”</p><p>He had months ago started to talk to the baby, and Lothiriel had smiled, and teased him about it, but he had told her that the child needed to know their voices, needed to know them, carefully leaving out that the midwife had told him so. She had smiled sweetly and followed suit.</p><p>“There are other children here, so many children are being born. You will have so many friends to play with. You will never be lonely,” he whispered, his hand gently shifting as he felt the small flutter under her skin, “You are going to be so loved, little one, so loved that you might not even be able to stand it sometimes.” He looked up to see if Lothiriel stirred at all, but she slept on, “Your mother is very kind, and beautiful. And she will love you, even if she might scold you from time to time. She loves her books, and all of her numbers and plans, but she has such a good heart. You are going to be happy with us, I promise.” He whispered, tracing a finger softly over her stomach, “We are going to be a family together.” He kissed her stomach gently, looking back at her, sitting up, as he saw her eyes opening.</p><p>“Having another riveting conversation?” she asked, smiling down at him.</p><p>“Yes, the child has your mind,” Eomer smiled, stroking her hair out of her face, looking over her face, the small creases on her cheek from the pillow, “already full of ideas for the improvement of the land.”</p><p>Her hand moved sleepily over his face, “You smell.”</p><p>“I know, I meant to wash up, but I was distracted by something of beauty,” his smile was so soft.</p><p>He knew that people thought him a hard man, a king with a temper, something to be feared. There were times where he had denied that he was so, but he knew his own nature. She seemed to snuff out the ferocity in him for a time. She was the soothing balm against every hurt that had made him the way that he was, and she softened the edges of his character.</p><p>Bending forward, he kissed her, tasting the sleep on her breath and not caring, just nuzzling his face against her cheeks.</p><p>“You are ridiculous,” the words came out on a low chuckle, her hand pushing him gently away, “go wash, husband.” She sat up, her back resting against the headboard, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her fingertips.</p><p>He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head again, breathing in the smell of sleep and flowers on her hair, “I love you,” he murmured gently before leaving her side to wash in the basin, splashing a little on the floor.</p><p>She rested her hands over her belly, smiling and pulling the covers up over her stomach against the chill, watching him, the water dripping on his skin. She missed his skin, but she did not feel alluring or desirable at present. She did feel beautiful, but not in the way that she had been used to.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Her father had come for the birth, wanting to see the grandchild, and Faramir and Eowyn had come with their little boy, Eowyn claiming that she missed the early spring in the Riddermark, and not a single person believing her. Lothiriel felt a little guilty that her sister-by-law had come when they had not been able to come to hers, though Eowyn did not seem to mind. They were rather informal, as Lothiriel had not been feeling up to extravagance.</p><p>Lothiriel went through the nursery to show Eowyn, still a little concerned that she might have forgotten something.</p><p>“Do you think you have enough blankets?” Eowyn laughed, looking over everything in the little cabinet, fine things that Lothiriel had made or bought for the little heirling.</p><p>“Honestly, I am not certain,” Lothiriel admitted, holding Elboron against her shoulder. He a strong boy, with a keen grey gaze and pale hair, reaching out to everything, grasping at anything he could get his hands or his mouth on. He chewed on his aunt’s finger, his slick gums pinching a little.</p><p>“Be careful,” Eowyn warned, “he bites harder than you would think for a little one with no teeth. We already had one wet nurse leave our service for it.”</p><p>“You have a nurse?” Lothiriel asked surprised.</p><p>“Of course. I…” Eowyn looked about a moment to be certain that no one could hear her, “I love him, of course, but I do like sleeping.”</p><p>They had each taken to their new countries, then, and had become comfortable in their cultures as far as Lothiriel could see. Elboron began to fuss a little, and Eowyn took him into her arms, kissing and soothing him, and going to find the nurse.</p><p>Lothiriel followed him with a gentle look, wanting to sit down, feeling a dizzy and a little tired. She settled into a chair in the hall, by the fire, wanting to rest her feet as much as she could, getting the sense that she was going to be even more tired soon.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel woke before the sun, the first contractions coming on, and she stood up, walking from the chambers, pacing the hall to see if the contractions were true or a false alarm. She had heard of false labors from a few of the other women. One of the maids saw her and went to fetch Gredda, and alert her to what the queen was doing, or seemed to be doing.</p><p>“Your Majesty,” Gredda walked over to Lothiriel carefully, “are you alright?”</p><p>“Yes,” Lothiriel said, not slowing in her steps, another painful contraction stealing the air from her lungs. Her hand pressed against her hip, whimpering a little.</p><p>“Do we need to fetch a midwife?” Gredda asked, her hand hesitating over her arm, “Your Highness?”</p><p>“I think it is still early…”</p><p>“It is far better to be cautious,” Gredda said, her hand finally touched the shaking arm, and helped her settle onto a bench. “How close are the contractions?”</p><p>“A few minutes, I suppose,” Lothiriel said, panting some through the pain.</p><p>“And they are lasting a few minutes? Have your waters broken, yet?”</p><p>“It hurts,” Lothiriel whined, in a low voice.</p><p>“Alright, let us get you to bed, Your Majesty,” the old woman, helped her back to her feet, the young woman was trembling, “We will handle everything, just come and lay down.”</p><p>“No, I need to walk,” Lothiriel said, having taken through her entire life to pacing whenever she was in pain or when she faced any distress. She gripped the housekeeper’s hand, “I am afraid.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer rolled over in bed, and his hand felt the sheets, a little warm from where Lothiriel had been laying, but empty. For a moment, he dozed on, but he sat up quickly, looking around the room for her. He leapt up from the bed, pulling a dressing robe on and looking through the rest of the rooms in the apartment, and finding her nowhere in their rooms. He opened the door as Gredda walked Lothiriel to the room, a careful look on the old woman’s face.</p><p>“I think the baby is coming,” Lothiriel winced as another contraction came on, trying to keep herself calm. The last thing she needed was to scare him.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>He paced in the hall, trying not to hear his wife screaming through the labor, his hands kneading each other. He sat with the men, not in that room. Men would not be present at births. It was not done.</p><p>Faramir held out a cup to him, “It will help a little,” he assured.</p><p>He drank some of the whiskey, wondering if it would in fact help, it did warm him a little against the morning chill. He had dressed quickly, as he sent for the Midwife and for Lady Baldgwyn, and Mistress Waerhild, his sister staying with Lothiriel to hold her, and calm her. He pressed a hand to his brow at another cry. It had been such a long day, and he was eager for the enterprise to be done and over. He leapt back to his feet, pacing again in long anxious strides.</p><p>For his part, Imrahil had never thought he would see a man so feared by his foes, look so terrified. He had paced over the floor for hours, and Imrahil prayed for a safe birth, and for the health of his daughter, but having been in Eomer’s place four times was not as concerned, even as his own wife had been taken giving birth to his daughter.</p><p>Eomer rounded and started back toward the apartment.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Imrahil asked, drawn from his own thoughts.</p><p>“I cannot stand it,” Eomer said, his voice low and clearly not wanting to hear any sense.</p><p>“It is hard, but you cannot go in there,” Faramir said, reaching out a hand to stop Eomer from going further.</p><p>“And you cannot expect me to stand here, and listen, and do nothing,” Eomer said. He had meant to sound sure, and to put that voice that gave no objections, but he could hear the pleading in his words, his voice creaking a little. “That is what I cannot do.”</p><p>“I can promise you that you would do little to help,” Faramir said, his voice soft and full of understanding, “just wait a little.”</p><p>Eomer stared at the pair of them, and then over to Eothain, whose face was blank and his mouth silent. It was quiet, and he had not noticed for a moment longer than he should have. Then he heard it, the little wailing cry.</p><p>Nothing that any of them could have said would have stopped him then. He tore off, hurrying back to the bedchamber, and hesitated at the door. He knocked, his hand shaking a little.</p><p>The door opened and Eowyn smiled at him, “It is a girl.”</p><p>He had a daughter.</p><p>He grinned, “May I…?”</p><p>“Let him in,” Lothiriel called. They had pulled a blanket up over her stomach, and she looked so tired, a little bundle in her arms, resting on her chest. A few tendrils of black hair clung to her face, plastered by sweat, sitting up with some struggle.</p><p>His feet carried him without thought and he sat next to her on the bed, slipping a gentle arm around her shoulders, relieved that she lived. He looked down at the squished pink face of their daughter.</p><p>“Do you want to hold her?” Lothiriel’s voice was so weary. She shifted the baby into his arms with care, ensuring that his hand supporting the small head.</p><p>“She is so little,” Eomer said, in awe of the little hand reaching out to something, the tiny eyes opening and closing, and he wondered how well those little eyes could see.</p><p>“Theowen,” Lothiriel said in a low voice, somewhat contented even though the tiredness, smoothing the side of her finger over the little arm that reached out, stretching small muscles, “this is your father.”</p><p>Eomer nodded, “Do you like your name, little princess?” he asked, smiling.</p><p>“Well, she is not fussing,” Lothiriel allowed, smiling up at Eomer, “So I take that as assent.”</p><p>He kissed Lothiriel's brow, finding it a little clammy, and a little warm, he rested his head against hers.</p><p>“Go show her off,” Lothiriel said quietly, knowing that the men would want to see what they had made, “I need to rest, love.”</p><p>Eomer’s eyes searched her for any sign of childbed illness and found none. She stroked a hand over his arm, gently nudging him to let her sleep a little, and clean herself. They would need to take the bed linens and put clean ones in the place.</p><p>“I love you,” he kissed her brow again, carrying Theowen carefully, afraid that he would drop her, or that she might squirm loose. The little girl swaddled gently, up stared back at him with green eyes and fine pale hair, her tiny hand wrapping around his finger. She had such tiny fingernails…</p><p>Imrahil looked at the bundle, with the sudden love of a grandfather, “May I hold the babe?”</p><p>Eomer carefully passed the tiny princess to his wife’s father, “Her name is Theowen,” he said, smiling.</p><p>Imrahil smoothed a finger over the small dimpled knuckle, “Hello, Theowen.”</p><p>“Lothiriel is well, and is resting,” Eowyn said, smiling, “Though she said to tell you that she was sorry of all the racket.”</p><p>Eomer shook his head, not knowing how to answer such an absurd apology, knowing it was meant in jest. His eyes went back to his daughter. He had a daughter. The fact was a sort of shock to him, even having had months to accept that he would be a father, seeing the child was something different. He loved her so immediately and knew that he would protect her without hesitation to any end. He had a daughter.</p><p>He had expected some reaction from Imrahil upon hearing the name, Rohirric and strong, but the Prince seemed enchanted by the newborn, smiling at his newest grandchild. The grey eyes looked at Eomer with something like appreciation, and in some way, Eomer felt as if they understood each other. They had been friends and allies, before it was even known that Eomer had taken an interest in Lothiriel. But in a strange way Eomer, now having a daughter understood the want to protect her and keep her close.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel stayed in bed for the next few days as her body healed, and she lived. She had not fully realized how much it would hurt, and how terrified she had been.</p><p>She had just finished feeding Theowen and had handed her to Eomer to tie her nightgown closed.</p><p>“You are not disappointed?” she asked, watching as Eomer gently patted a hand over their daughter’s back to burp her, a linen napkin over his shoulder. He looked as perfectly comfortable with fatherhood as could be hoped for, and it warmed her heart, even if he still seemed a little afraid of causing some harm to the tiny princess.</p><p>“No, why would you ask?”</p><p>“Because she is not a son,” Lothiriel knew that he was happy, but she just wanted to be assured.</p><p>“Of course not. We have a healthy child, and you are recovering. I could not ask for more.”</p><p>“I could ask that our little princess would sleep a little better.”</p><p>“Well, she is a newborn, and they are not known for their peaceful sleeping.”</p><p>She quirked a brow, “You are going to spoil her rotten, are you?”</p><p>“Of course not,” Eomer smiled, and knew it was a lie, depositing the baby carefully back in Lothiriel’s arms. He nestled them both in beside him, his arm wrapping slowly around his queen’s shoulder, looking at Lothiriel so tenderly.</p><p>Lothiriel hummed a tune, rocking Theowen to sleep, hoping that she would sleep for a few hours at least. She did not want to admit how tired she was, but she knew she was in for at least months without enough sleep. She loved her baby and had been concerned that she would sleep through her little cries, but now that Theowen was here, she knew that her entire life was centered around her. Her priorities remained the same, but now it was more. She wanted to leave a strong nation for her children as much as for her people.</p><p>She could hear Theowen’s breath change as she slept and Lothiriel carefully set her in the cradle, tucking her gently under the blanket she had made, Caelon looking up from his place on the floor by the cradle, and watching with careful eyes.</p><p>Gredda had advised that they keep Caelon away from the baby, concerned that the old hound would not take care with Theowen. This concern had seemed unfounded, as his wet nose sniffed at her, and he had sat watch over her, the most fiercely loyal guard they could have hoped for. He rested his chin on the edge of the cradle, looking at the baby, then back up at his mistress.</p><p>Climbing back into bed, she just wanted to sleep, and she looked at Eomer with a weary smile. Theowen would wake in a few hours, hungry or needing a change, and Lothiriel was so eager to sleep while she could. She blew the candle out and nestled close against Eomer’s chest. She was still sore, though she did her best not to show it so much.</p><p>His hand, his arms were gentle as they held her, moving with a timid nervousness as if he was not certain where he could touch her. She should not have smiled, or laughed, but she still found it amusing when he faltered out of nervousness. She pressed a kiss against his cheek, and nestled against his shoulder as well as she might, smoothing a hand over his chest hoping to calm his nerves. He had been a little twitchy since Theowen had been born, and she knew that as his wife, she should assuage those nerves, and assure him that she had the same sense of uncertainty. She had never been a mother before and was perhaps still a little afraid of not quite being up to the duty of it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You should at least consider having a night nurse,” Imrahil said, as gently as he could.</p><p>Lothiriel sat under the spring sun with her father and her sister-in-law, holding Theowen so that the child could sit, her small head resting in the crook of Lothiriel’s arm. The little princess had a woolen dress on over her little shift and seemed perfectly happy trying to gum the end of her mother’s braid.</p><p>“Perhaps,” Lothiriel said, looking down at her daughter, somehow not wanting any other woman caring for her, but that could very well be another of her anxieties, “I think it might be important to me to care for her.”</p><p>“Yes, but you need to rest, daughter,” Imrahil said, carefully.</p><p>It was strange that her father was so accepting of the choices she was making as a mother. She had expected that he would tell her to be reasonable, to get a nurse, to do as every Gondorian lady did. Imrahil had maybe realized that his daughter was no longer Gondorian.</p><p>Eowyn held Elboron, his little face nestled against his mother’s neck. All Lothiriel could see of him was the little shock of golden hair on his head, “It is not my place, but I might agree.”</p><p>“I am not certain one way or the other,” Lothiriel said, “I do not want to make any mistakes.”</p><p>“You will make mistakes,” Imrahil laughed, “that is the nature of parenthood. You never know what it is that you are meant to do, and I promise as long as you do your best to be good, you will succeed.”</p><p>“One of my ladies told me that the greatest duty of a parent is to simply keep a child alive,” Eowyn said, shrugging a little, “which is at least easy thus far.”</p><p>“I do no envy Elphir and Gadrien on that score,” Lothiriel said.</p><p>Eowyn’s eyes widened, and she shifted Elboron to look at her, “Do not ever do anything your older cousins tell you to.”</p><p>Lothiriel chuckled, “I doubt there is anything to be done for it. This entire generation is going to be comprised of fearless hellions.”</p><p>“Every generation is,” Imrahil stood, and kissed the top of his granddaughters’ head, and then Lothiriel’s cheek, “She is beautiful, my dear. Will you pardon me? I must go write to the family.”</p><p>Lothiriel rested her head against Eowyn’s shoulder, a little out of sisterly affection, and a little more from a weariness. She had not been a mother more than a week, and already, she was certain she was growing a little irritable.</p><p>“Has Eomer not been helping?” Eowyn asked with a measured voice.</p><p>“He has, and for his part seems less a stranger to being woken in the middle of the night for duty. Perhaps if there was some way that he could feed her…” Lothiriel pondered, trying to work out a way that she could store some milk without it going off, but the idea of being milked like a cow or a goat made her a little uncomfortably, and she put that scheme aside for the moment.</p><p>Eowyn shook her head a little, at her sister, wondering what devices were going through that little head.</p><p>Waerhild had written Eowyn, praising the little queen, and Eowyn would have felt as if she was spying, were it not from a genuine sense of concern. She never asked for many details but had just wanted to know that Lothiriel was enjoying her new life, and it had seemed as if she was.</p><p>During the last summer, Lothiriel had apparently tried to find a way to cool the air inside the hall, and had written to Faramir to see if he might find some books that would explain the theory of the changes air temperatures and Faramir for his part had read the letter, thrown a hand up, and made jest that his little cousin was clearly trying to become a witch.</p><p>The idea had evidentially fallen by the side, either from impracticality or Lothiriel finding something else to work on. She was a strange little woman, and while Eowyn found her strange sister charming, and wondered how they had managed to break her, certain that her mind was hardly seen as an attribute to her family. It had occurred to Eowyn, though she was not certain how to say it, that perhaps motherhood would be as the sort of prison that Lothiriel had meant to escape through marrying a man that seemed to understand her. It might do well to take a nursemaid on for the little princess, if only to give her time to still work at whatever schemes she was currently thinking out, even if they were likely impractical. It was not her place to advise her sister on how she might be a mother.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer had taken Faramir riding, needing to be active in some way, for he was beginning to feel quite certain that his constant hovering and attempts at usefulness were wearing Lothiriel’s patience. It was not that he was unaware, he just did not know how to stop hovering. Someone had asked during the pregnancy if Eomer had a preference as to the gender of the child, and he had been unsure how to answer. It was strange that now, having a daughter, his wish seemed to have even ever that he should be blessed with one.</p><p>“You look rather grim, my lord,” Faramir said, “What is the matter?”</p><p>Eomer internally winced, trying to find the right way to explain his predicament, “My wife with be quite irritated with me.”</p><p>“Of course, she is irritated by most things,” Faramir teased, “but what will be the main focus of her wrath?”</p><p>“She does not like to be kept in the dark,” Eomer said, “and I fear that she will learn how much I have kept back from her. The midwife told me that she should avoid all stress as far as it could be managed, and so I have given Lothiriel a few small matters here and there to help me with and kept anything pressing back.”</p><p>Faramir, even understanding the reason for the decision, stared with wide eyes at his brother-in-law, “Well I do not envy you that conversation.”</p><p>Eomer grunted, “But I am not sure how to tell her, or if I even should, though there are some matters that involve her.”</p><p>“Perhaps you might…” Faramir started, then stopped, “What is it that she must be told of?”</p><p>“There are some men that have wanted her sent back to Dol Amroth,” Eomer said, “they have been sending petitions for the disillusion of our marriage, and I have been tempted to have them executed, but that might make the matter worse.”</p><p>“What have you done so far?” Faramir asked, wondering at the vengeful tempers between his cousin and her husband, and how they had managed to keep each other in check.</p><p>“I ignored them until the petitions started. I sent one of my lords to tell them that I would not hear of it, but…” Eomer looked away again, “I doubt any sense or reason will put them off. They initially claimed that they were concerned that we had no heir, and then their complaints are over the money she has cost.”</p><p>Faramir raised a brow, not sure any more than Eomer how this could be solved by the king himself short of telling the men that they were wrong. In his experience however that rarely worked, "What do your advisors say?"</p><p>"They seem afraid of offering council one way or the other."</p><p>“You will have to tell her. She will find out otherwise, but perhaps wait a little longer, until she regains her strength,” Faramir offered, before thinking again, “or perhaps that would be worse, for she might have the strength then, to beat you.”</p><p>“What was I meant to do?” Eomer asked, trying not to laugh.</p><p>“I know that, and I am certain Lothiriel will understand.”</p><p>Eomer gave him a look, “Are you?”</p><p>Faramir shrugged, smiling a little, “Well, eventually she will understand.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eventually she did understand.</p><p>It did not take quite as long as he had thought it would, which was a relief, though he did see the flash of rage in her eyes. Eomer wondered if it had been a stroke of brilliance to tell her while she was feeding Theowen, or if it simply meant that she would throw the baby girl at him, their babe being the closest thing at hand. It was a stupid thought, he knew, but there was a moment where her hands had tensed just a little and he prepared himself for something to be thrown at his head.</p><p>Lothiriel looked down at her daughter, stroking the hand over the back of her downy head as it relaxed, the faraway look in her eye making Eomer a little more afraid. “They really hate me so much as all that?”</p><p>“I doubt they hate you,” Eomer kneeled in front of her, his hand resting on her knee, comfortingly.</p><p>“The idea of me, then.”</p><p>“I do not know what to do, Thiriel,” Eomer admitted, having decided that groveling might be the best idea.</p><p>“There are a few different options,” Lothiriel allowed, thinking, “But I think that you should tell them that you will hear their petition.”</p><p>“Would that not embolden them?”</p><p>“Perhaps,” she smirked a little, “I would be a defendant in this petition, would I not?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“And as such I would be able to give testimony in my defense?”</p><p>“It would not be expected,” Eomer said, carefully, “A matter such as this would be left to my discretion, even to hear it or not.”</p><p>“Their major complaint is that I am a waste of money,” she said, the wheels in her mind turning, “so I will simply have to show them that I am not.”</p><p>“How do you plan to do that?” Eomer asked, having an idea of how she meant to do this, but wanting to give her the opportunity to tell him, and to be smug at her forethought.</p><p>Lothiriel took a breath, “I will need a few weeks to finish recovering, and then we can see them.”</p><p>Eomer looked at his wife, almost smiling, “What are you thinking?”</p><p>“Only to make my value clear,” her catlike smile thrilled him a little, wondering what mischief she had planned. She looked back at her daughter, “In truth I thought they might decide to stop being such a nuisance after I gave birth.”</p><p>“I am sorry I did not tell you,” Eomer said.</p><p>“No, you did right, though I would hope you do not think to make a habit of it.”</p><p>“I would not dare. I have managed well enough, but the finer points of things escape me.”</p><p>Lothiriel’s face was sly, “you mean to flatter me until you are certain that I have forgiven you?”</p><p>“Is it working?” Eomer smiled.</p><p>“I suppose so,” she wiped Theowen’s mouth, and passed their daughter into his large hands, gently laying the small towel over his shoulder before righting her nightgown back over her shoulder. She should not have felt so smug at the quick furtive look of his eyes over her breast. There was little enough to be done for it, and she did not know whether or not it would be right to tease him yet.</p><p>Eomer had been so patient thus far, even if she was a little annoyed with him, she should not be cruel. He cut his eyes away, embarrassed and kissed Theowen’s plump cheek, murmuring to her in Rohirric.</p><p>She wanted to yell at him, but she somehow could not manage it, just looking at him with Theowen against his shoulder, rocking her a little bit. Damn him, she thought, wanting to put the Theowen in the cradle and put her in the other room to yell at him, but she felt her rage melting in her at the sight of him being a father. She stood up, and smoothed her hand over his back, standing on her toes to look at their daughter.</p><p>“Get some rest, my love,” Eomer said, smiling at her, “I can get her to sleep.”</p><p>She softened, “Thank you,” she tugged his sleeve, pulling him down to kiss her.</p><p>Eomer sat by the hearth, Theowen in his arms, her tiny hand wrapped around his finger. He was always surprised by the strength in her tiny body. She was so perfect, and even now at a month old, he was surprised that he had served any part in making her. Her wide hazel eyes stared back up at him as he held her close, humming a little as he rocked her. She reached out, her fingers catching his hair a little violently, tangled and in her confusion at the trap she had caught herself in, she let out a little croak. Carefully he extracted the tiny fingers, shushing her gently.</p><p>Theowen blinked up at him, and he wondered what her little eyes saw. Lothiriel had told him that babies could not see very far, and he had tried to keep his face a little close to her, so that she might know him.</p><p>“It is alright, little one,” he said quietly, kissing her small hand, “it is alright.”</p><p>Theowen’s little face screwed up uncertainly, at the bristle of his mustache against her delicate skin, and he smiled as the hand touched his face. He hummed a little more, rocking the precious child in his arms.</p><p>Lothiriel knew she should take the few moments of blessed sleep, but she wanted to keep looking at the pair of them. She had never doubted that she loved her husband, but she felt almost as if she was falling in love with him again now. But she was so tired, and she told herself that she would have so much time to see Eomer holding their little daughter, so she closed her eyes and let herself fall asleep.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Theowen grew a little faster than Eomer had expected, and he wondered if time really would fly as fast as the first weeks already had. It was not that she was an overly fussy child, but he knew how hard it was on Lothiriel to tend to her as well as fulfill her own duties. Lothiriel had begun carrying the tiny princess in a sling that she had fashioned from a silk shawl, keeping Theowen close while she sat in her solar or walked in the market, or even sat with him to hear the backlog of petitions. Oddly enough, it seemed to calm their daughter to be close against her mother. Lothiriel had a few of her dresses adjusted so she could feed Theowen while she was in the silken cocoon.</p><p>Eomer watched Lothiriel put the fussy princess into her contraption the first time, trying to hide his amusement at the struggle of managing the baby’s limbs. Being clearly of headstrong stock, Theowen never wanted anyone to make her arms or legs do anything that they were not already doing, which in his experience made changing her a battle. Once she was tucked into the sling, and Lothiriel walked around the room with her for a minute, Theowen calmed, and he smiled at his wife’s triumphant face.</p><p>“Well done, corenu,” he bowed his head, if only to hide how funny he found her glee.</p><p>“I will show the other mothers and see if we might all make some of these!” Lothiriel said, adjusting the sling over her shoulder.</p><p>“A wonderful idea,” Eomer agreed, smiling at his wife’s excitement at being able to hold her hand and to still have her hands free.</p><p>“Do you mock me, my lord?” she asked, her voice full of mock offense.</p><p>“No, of course not,” Eomer did his best to look innocent.</p><p>Lothiriel chuckled, patting Theowen’s back through the silk, a calculating expression on her face. Eomer thought to ask her what she was thinking but decided against it, as he might not want to know.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>When the malcontents did come to Meduseld, Eomer was almost impressed by their daring, part of him having hoped that they would think better of coming before their King with their demands, close enough that he could see their faces, and have their names.</p><p>There was something in the way that Lothiriel adjusted her posture that made Eomer more nervous for these fools than he was for her.</p><p>“Your Majesty,” the man who had somehow been given the dubious honor of speaking for them said, “I am Balhere, son of Balmod, and we, being goodly subjects of the Riddermark come to ask that you send Lothiriel of Dol Amroth back to her kin.”</p><p>“For what reason?” Eomer asked, more than a little galled, that this fellow had the audacity to speak so loudly and clearly in the hall.</p><p>“She has failed to provide an heir in the year and a half that she has been here, and for what purpose are such extravagant spending given on her from our own coffers?”</p><p>Lothiriel’s let out a slow breath, laden with mirth, “And what extravagant spending am I meant to be guilty of?”</p><p>“I do not speak to you, Your Highness, but to our King,” Balhere said, apparently meaning to scare her by his words.</p><p>“Oh, I do beg your pardon,” Lothiriel said, standing slowly, her hand on Theowen in her sling as she stood, “I am unused to being the subject of such legal proceedings.”</p><p>Balhere watched her walk toward him with slow, measured steps, his eyes seeming to forget for a moment that they needed to blink.</p><p>“The question does stand,” Eomer said, his voice getting a little lower, a dangerous tone.</p><p>“She is well-dressed, while there are people in these lands that have lost everything,” Balhere said, “and has been given far too much power over us in Your Majesty’s absence.”</p><p>“Then you mean to call me out for having my Queen rule in my stead while I am not here?” Eomer asked, “As I understood, that has ever been our custom.”</p><p>“When the Queen is of our own, yes, but to have a foreigner meddling in our affairs-”</p><p>“If I may,” Lothiriel interjected gently, “I have given up any claim or home in Gondor. I am a citizen of Rohan and have thus far done all in my power to serve this nation.”</p><p>“And lining your own chests with the profits, I would guess,” Balhere all but hissed.</p><p>Lothiriel was almost disappointed at the unoriginality of the argument, “Is that your concern, in truth?”</p><p>“As a loyal citizen, it would be.”</p><p>Lothiriel nodded, her lips pursed, “In that case, may I present my evidence to the contrary?” She did not wait for an answer, calling to the door wardens to bring her books out.</p><p>Eomer stood, as was expected since he had to be seen to at least look at the evidence, a little alarmed by how many books she had pulled aside for this little display.</p><p>“I hope you do not mind, terribly, but I thought I might save us all the time of waiting, and looking through these, and have marked the pages that I thought would be appropriate.” Her smile was sweet, and she flipped through the pages, “Now, you will note that this shows the overall yield of the Westfold settlements and their rebuilding and the money spent, saved, and earned in trade…”</p><p>She went through each of her thick ledgers with care, even showing the influx of capitol that had come with her dowry, and where it was spent, doing so in long, dull terms, though she seemed pleased by it.</p><p>Balhere seeming not to have considered that she would keep records, made a show of studying the lines.</p><p>“This one,” she opened another ledger, “details my own personal expenses, which I will grant you might seem a little…” she paused, “what was the word you used?”</p><p>“Extravagant,” Eomer supplied.</p><p>“Thank you, my lord,” Lothiriel smiled, “they may seem extravagant, but if you consider,” she looked through the stack of ledgers, finding on a bit older, and hesitating, “Would you be so kind?” she asked Balhere.</p><p>The man bit on his back-teeth, and pulled the book indicated, and opened it to the marked page, looking for a moment as if he wished he had worn more comfortable shoes for this mission.</p><p>“Now if you compare the expenses from Elfhild Queen, you will note that I have spent a little less. However, if you factor for inflation, I am even then spending less than that.”</p><p>“Inflation?” Balhere asked.</p><p>Lothiriel’s smile widened, “In economic terms, coin is not always worth exactly the same amount. The value of money, and of object fluctuates.”</p><p>Eomer looked over the ledger, praying that she would not go too far into a lecture, and was thankful that her attentions were diverted, only wishing that it was not because Theowen was hungry. “We may adjourn for a few moments.”</p><p>“Oh, I can manage,” Lothiriel bowed her head, pulling her shawl over the sling for further modesty, her hand tucking under to make the adjustments to feed the princess as she went on, clearly making Balhere a little uncomfortable.</p><p>Eomer fought the urge to roll his eyes, wondered if that had been the purpose behind designing the contraption in the first place, and was equal part amused and a little concerned at his wife’s manipulative practicality. If the effect she had hoped for was to reinforce herself as a diligent mother, it seemed to work in part, as the petitioners seemed to have assumed that she would pass the mewling infant to a nurse for her own convenience.</p><p>She continued through ledger after ledger, showing each part of the Mark, and assuring them of the successes of her plans so far. Pausing a moment, she carefully extracted Theowen from the sling, retaining her modesty under the extra material over her chest, and held the princess out to Balhere, “Would you mind terribly?”</p><p>Her adversary took the little girl with careful hands, not sure of what else to do, looking at her little face, composed in part of both of her parents, her little arms flailing a little, reaching back for her mother, as Lothiriel righted her clothing under her shawl with quick fingers.</p><p>The grizzled man looked at the princess with an almost tender appreciation as she looked back at him, making the small sounds common to infants. Eomer watched Balhere’s face soften a little as he held Theowen, the man almost smiling back at her giggling face.</p><p>Lothiriel took one of the small towels out to burp Theowen, and gingerly took her daughter back, having not stopped in her explanations.</p><p>Perhaps, Eomer thought, her plan was to bore the man into submission.</p><p>“I hope my evidence assuages your fears,” Lothiriel said, looking perfectly maternal and approachable, even in her fine dress, her face the very picture of concern and duty.</p><p>“We have then heard wrong,” Balhere said, not sure what else he could say. The options were slim and had been to start, and he seemed to curse his luck for having to have to engage in this errand.</p><p>“Then you withdraw your petition?” Eomer asked.</p><p>“I cannot speak for us all,” Balhere admitted, “but I would ask that I may take this information back to my comrades and ask what they think.”</p><p>Lothiriel nodded her head a fraction, as if she was a quiet wife, not giving her assent to the condition of this man leaving her presence.</p><p>“Then do so, and be quick,” Eomer watched the man bow and walk quickly away, his dark eyes narrowed at his retreating form.</p><p>“Was all of that necessary?” he asked his wife in a low voice, walking back to their thrones.</p><p>“Likely not, but I like to leave little to chance,” Lothiriel said, tucking Theowen back into the sling, “I have found that people do not always make their opinions with facts, and that sometimes emotion might be useful.”</p><p>Eomer grunted a low chuckle, “But to feed in front of strange men?”</p><p>“I will not do it again,” she promised, “though it did seem to disquiet the fool. The worst he can now say is that I am a doting mother, and a dedicated record keeper.”</p><p>“But that could have been done privately,” Eomer said, his voice a little hard.</p><p>She looked at him, as if irritated by the point that he was missing, “What happens when testimony is given before you?”</p><p>He sat back, “You mean to have that all read out across the country?”</p><p>“Well, not all of it, but the general points,” Lothiriel smirked, looking into the sling at Theowen, feeling a little guilty at using her daughter as a pawn, but she had only done it because she could see her facts were making little enough effect, “and besides, who could see this sweet little face and say that it should be disowned?”</p><p>“You are frightening, you know that?” Eomer shook his head.</p><p>“As long as you do not find me so, and you are not cross.”</p><p>He shook his head again, “I found it a little melodramatic perhaps, but if they withdraw their petition it would be better than me finding against them.”</p><p>“Exactly”, she smirked deviously, and tried to smother the feeling of excessing pride at her success, reaching out for his hand, “and they would have to admit that they were wrong, or else it be assumed so.”</p><p>“Please do not be so willing to give my daughter to the hands of strangers in future,” he said, leaning to her ear, and though he did in part mean it, he knew his amusement was evident enough to her in his voice alone.</p><p>Lothiriel held Theowen’s hand, “I promise.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If I'm entirely honest I am still not entirely satisfied with the petition scene, but , I have worked it and reworked it and right now, I just need to write, and keep putting this story out. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and that it finds you all safe.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lothiriel heard nothing from the grumbling peasants for weeks and decided that she might as well assume that the matter was resolved unless she heard otherwise. Over that time, she was slowly able to adjust to motherhood without much pressure from anyone it seemed. Though she did have to admit that there were times when as Waerhild had foretold, she did want to throw Theowen through a window or down a well. Sometimes she cried, and Lothiriel for the life of her could not find any way to make her stop, feeding did nothing, she did not need a change, or even if Lothiriel just held her. She just cried.</p><p>It was one of the things reasons that Lothiriel had decided to try and make the sling in the first place. It seemed to help a little, but not always. She wondered how other women without the privileges as she had managed to survive it. There was little else to be done besides pressing through it, assuring herself that Baldgwyn had been right and that the first child was always the most difficult.  </p><p>That night, Lothiriel had nestled in bed, flush with the victory over her nemesis, certain that it was the last that would be heard from the men that wanted her removed. She realized with some irritation that she had reread the same passage a few times over, her mind moving beyond her will. Were they just a group of irritated peasants, or was there someone prodding them to action?</p><p>Eomer leaned over her to snuff the candle out and taking the book out of her hands. He pulled the curtains forward on the side of the bed as if to hide them from Theowen on the odd chance she woke, “I think that it is late, and you have read enough,” he said close to her ear in the dark.</p><p>She blushed a little, “I was not through with that,” she pressed his shoulder a little.</p><p>“You have read it before,” his voice traveled a little lower, his lips finding the crook of her neck, his hands gently slipping over her hips under the covers.</p><p>Lothiriel bit her lip, wanting to urge him on, but feeling a little guilty, “Eomer, you are going to wake the baby.”</p><p>“I will be very quiet,” he promised.</p><p>She tucked her face against strong shoulder to stop herself giggling. His free hand caught her face gently, and he looked at the shape of her face in thin moon light before dropping a kiss against her lips, smiling a little as her arms wrapping around his shoulders gently, pulling him against her. His lips were so gentle, drawing her desire out.</p><p>She had not felt much like restarting the intimate part of their relationship since the birth, still not feeling very attractive, and being too tired to put the effort into it. Had she been a bad wife, not thinking that he was missing her attention?</p><p>The small whining sound pulled her attention away from Eomer’s kiss, and she looked for the source of it. When she saw Caelon’s thin face staring at her, she broke into a fit of laughter, her hand pressed over her face.</p><p>Eomer deflated a little but smiled in spite of having his plans thwarted. He chucked, resting his forehead against her shoulder, “I will plan better next time.”</p><p>Lothiriel ran her fingers through his hair, feeling a little guilty at having laughed, but she wondered if there was anything else she should have done, “I am sorry, love,” she kissed the top of his head, her chest still quivering with contained laughter.</p><p>He chuckled, “Perhaps we should have gotten a nurse after all.” In truth he found the idea of wet-nurses unnatural, but there had been moments over the last few months where he had considered broaching the topic with his young wife. He was concerned for her health, and for her mind, but not wanting to interfere beyond the help he tried to give Lothiriel, had kept it secret that he had asked Lady Baldgwyn to check in on Lothiriel from time to time.</p><p>Before they had been married, she had railed at him for keeping secrets, and he found that through his marriage, this far anyway, most of his secrets were in asking for help on behalf of his wife. He wondered if that could be counted as a secret, but decided it was likely not.</p><p>“I can try to get away tomorrow for a little while and ask Waerhild or one of the other mothers to watch Theowen for a little while,” Lothiriel offered, feeling as if she needed to give some solution. Her fingertips found his cheek a little raised in a wry smile.</p><p>“But then you would need to tell them why.”</p><p>“Likely not, the ladies enjoy playing with Theowen,” she assured him, “there have been a few offers to watch her, if I should need it.”</p><p>Eomer sat up, “and you have not taken that offer sooner?” his voice had that dry mirthful quality that she loved.</p><p>“No, for I did not think you would approve.”</p><p>“Why should I not?”</p><p>It was a good question, and Lothiriel did not have the answer to it. She had conjured in her mind the conversation of having any of her ladies watching their daughter as having a more tense outcome. Now she could imagine him carrying Theowen in her little basket and hurling her at the women in her solar, with a quick salute and well wishes before tossing Lothiriel over his shoulder and running headlong back to their bed.</p><p>“My mother left us with her women oft enough, and Eowyn and I turned out perfectly fine,” Eomer assured her.</p><p>“Did you?”</p><p>Eomer lay back down, supporting himself on his elbow, “I think so. Do you not find me so, wife?”</p><p>Lothiriel grinned back, “I suppose you are acceptable.”</p><p>“Acceptable?” his hand rubbed the blankets over her stomach.</p><p>She leaned up and kissed his cheek, “Very acceptable, dare I even say, the most acceptable.” She could see the shadow of his head shaking a little, as if certain that he had married a mad woman after all. She rolled onto her side and slid back into his embrace, relieved that Caelon had found something else to look at, and that his fine head no longer lay on the bed staring with wide unblinking eyes. She was honestly uncertain that she would be able to sleep if she had to feel those eyes on her.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer wondered if it made him a bad father to be so pleased that his wife had come to take the mid-day meal with him, and without Theowen. He had never been a father, and he was uncertain how Lothiriel was managing it so well as she was. He felt a little like a spoiled child that he should have felt at all as if he was not being given enough of his wife’s attention. He knew it was stupid, and immature, their infant princess needing the attention that Lothiriel lavished on her. He wanted to have some time with her alone, even if it was only to sit and speak with her, or to simply kiss her fingers. He was a pleased when she sat on his lap as she ate her bread and meat, giggling a little when he nuzzled the side of her neck, breathing in her scent. With that giggle, his determination to slowly seduce his wife broke, and he scooped her eagerly up in his arms and carried her to their bed.</p><p>“I might need to have Theowen watched more regularly,” Lothiriel sighed, leaning on a crooked arm, looking at him over the bed linens, her chest and cheeks flushed.</p><p>He gave a low grunt, neither assent nor disagreement, stroking his fingertips over the curve of a breast with a lazy ease, “You do not think me a dreadful brute, then?”</p><p>Her brow furrowed in confusion, “of course not, love.”</p><p>The fingertips did not slow in their slow tracing path over her soft flesh. “I have wanted to be with you again for so long that I thought I might go a little mad.”</p><p>Lothiriel giggled, shaking her head at him, “Well, if you did not so constantly hold me in your sleep, perhaps you would not feel so.”</p><p>“I think I still would,” Eomer’s fingertips stopped, looking up at her, “you might start riding again.”</p><p>“I thought you did not mind a little more curve to my body,” she teased.</p><p>Eomer’s face fell a fraction as if he had not considered that she would think that was his meaning at all, “I meant only that you liked to ride so, and that you have not been able to, for the pregnancy, or for caring after our daughter.”</p><p>“I know,” she smoothed her fingers through his hair gently, “I know you think I should have taken a nurse on.”</p><p>“My own opinion is of two minds,” he admitted.</p><p>“As is my own.”</p><p>He rested his bearded chin on her stomach, his face thoughtful, “at least the colic is passed.”</p><p>“Do not speak to me of that curse, for I fear that if we speak of it, the curse may be summoned again.”</p><p>He pressed a kiss against her belly before sitting up. There were more duties and meetings to attend to. Lothiriel followed suit, and righted her linen stockings, before dressing herself, knowing that she would need to go back to the solar, and see to Theowen.</p><p>“It was nice to have a little time without her,” Lothiriel said, quietly, “does that make me a bad mother?”</p><p>“I doubt it,” Eomer said, “I think we all need a little break from time to time, corenu.” He pressed a kiss to her brow, “though I am not certain how well I like the ladies knowing our business.”</p><p>“We are royalty, my love, that we have been able to keep much of anything secret between us is a miracle,” Lothiriel laughed, stepping into her shoes, and stooped to tie them quickly, though she was not quick enough to avoid the pinch Eomer gave her rear. She smacked at his arm, her cheeks pink, and he looked far too pleased with himself.</p><p>Eomer smiled, and went from their rooms to his council, in a better mood than he had been in a few weeks. He wondered sometimes if Lothiriel knew that he was as stern as he ever had been when she was at her own duties, and that on occasion, his council would fall silent at a look at his face.</p><p>Lothiriel went back to the weaving and stitches, Waerhild making faces at Theowen from where the baby was lain on her back on the floor and talking to her in silly voices. She leaned a moment in the door, watching her friend tug on a little toe, her own son taking his nap in the other room. Waerhild was pregnant with her second child and seemed overjoyed to play with the little princess as much as any of the women did.</p><p>“Has she been good?” Lothiriel asked, kneeling next to Waerhild.</p><p>“Oh, a perfectly charming young lady,” Waerhild smiled at the Queen, “I miss when Eobrand was as little as this. He was almost easier to manage,” catching sight of Lothiriel’s face, she laughed, “Wait until she starts running.”</p><p>Theowen’s face was composed of a look that seemed almost concentration her little body rocking side to side and after a moment of struggle managed to get herself onto her belly, pushing herself a little on her hands, trying to move, but not managing it. She had been trying to manage moving on her own recently, and Lothiriel should not have found it amusing.</p><p>“I am so proud of you! Look at your accomplishment!” Lothiriel clapped her hands, as she had begun to do whenever Theowen managed to do something on her own, simple as her accomplishments seemed. She helped her daughter sit, resting her against a kneeling leg, Theowen’s face lit with a smile.</p><p>“She looks a little like her father,” Waerhild smiled, gently touching Theowen’s little nose.</p><p>“Don’t I know,” Lothiriel beamed, down at the green eyes that seemed to try to find her face, “she is Eorlinga through and through, even in her temper.”</p><p>Theowen held Waerhild’s fingers and pulled it into her mouth, gnawing on the digit with relish. Waerhild raised a brow, “My lady, I would not be surprised if she starts to teethe soon.”</p><p>Just what I need, Lothiriel thought. She had begun feeding Theowen some oatmeal in small rations, the weaning starting, and would be eating solid food soon enough. She looked down at her little girl, almost seven months old now.</p><p>“If I tell the King, he might give her a leg of beef,” Lothiriel teased, rubbing a hand over Theowen’s tummy.</p><p>“I left Eobrand with Eothain once, and my dear husband did not seem to realize that infants cannot use chamber pots,” Waerhild smiled, giving no further details on that disaster.</p><p>“You cannot be serious.”</p><p>“I suppose he thought that Eobrand was old enough, though I am not certain of the process of thought,” Waerhild laughed, “perhaps he thought it would be easier than changing his nappy.”</p><p>Lothiriel shook her head, “Eomer has managed that at least, though I think he is still afraid he will hurt her. She is strong and fierce and does not like anyone making her do anything. I hope she keeps that fierceness,” she murmured the last thought, “I hope that our world will not snuff the fire out of her spirit.”</p><p>“I doubt it, she is Eomer King’s daughter, her aunt killed the Witch King of Angmar,” Waerhild said, smiling. There was something in her features as Waerhild seemed to have realized that she was giving all the credit to her own country folk, and said, “just hope she has your mind.”</p><p>“I worry we have cursed our children, if they all have the temper of their parents,” Lothiriel smiled back, “though who may say what children will grow into.”</p><p>Theowen chewed at her mother’s finger, and Lothiriel felt the soft swell start in her little gums.</p><p>“I will need to get something for her to chew on before she takes off someone’s finger,” Lothiriel murmured, not ready for another bought of irritability in her daughter.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel had a ring of polished wood made for Theowen to chew on as she cut her teeth, her rattle already bearing the marks of those sharp little teeth. Theowen had started to crawl, a little wobbly on her limbs, but when she got the momentum started, she could move rather quickly, and Lothiriel was starting to understand that it might have been easier to manage the princess when she could not move about of her own volition. Lothiriel had found herself a little proud that she had told Eomer to keep his weapons in the armory before Theowen was born as she had recently become a little petrified that Theowen would find something sharp and hurt herself.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Eomer asked in an endearing voice, coming in to dress for dinner, and finding Theowen scrambling over the carpet. He pressed his hands on his hips looking down at their grinning child.</p><p>Her little babbling voice replied in the language of babes.</p><p>“Oh, well that sounds very fine,” Eomer crouched down to her level, holding his hands toward Theowen, beckoning her to crawl over to him, “Come to Dada.”</p><p>Lothiriel smiled from where Heohild was pinning her hair up, “Dada?” she asked.</p><p>“It is what she calls me.”</p><p>“I do not think it is a real word.”</p><p>“Yes, it clearly is, as she says it regularly. Her first word was Dada, and that is because she loves me best,” Eomer scooped her up, and rested her on his hip, bouncing her a little, “you do love me best, do you not sweet girl? Tell your mama, so.”</p><p>Lothiriel shook her head, “I should like then to know what the rest of her baby talk means, if you think they are all words.”</p><p>“Clearly she means to sing my praises, it is hardly her fault that you do not understand,” Eomer sat on the edge of the bed, settling Theowen on his knee, continuing to bounce her gently.</p><p>“Of course, her vocabulary is perfect for praising such a man of wisdom.”</p><p>“If you were not my most loyal and beloved wife, I might take your words for an insult,” Eomer smirked at her.</p><p>Heohild curtsied, trying not to smile, “Anything else, my lady?”</p><p>“No, thank you, Heohild,” Lothiriel stood, and kissed her husband as her handmaid left. Eomer holding their daughter still had that warming effect on her heart, and Lothiriel hoped that it would never cease to do so.</p><p>Theowen wrapped each of her little hands around a finger of both of Eomer’s large hands as his knee bounced a little, her tiny face beaming as she giggled a little.</p><p>“I should think you would want her to be able to walk before you taught her to ride,” Lothiriel teased.</p><p>“No, she is a Princess of Rohan,” Eomer teased, standing to get them all to supper before they were late. He settled Theowen back on his hip, meaning to carry her out into the hall. Such a thing would never be done in Gondor, even if the child was royal. Lothiriel wondered sometimes if it was done in Rohan either, or if her husband had simply decided that he would show their daughter off as often as possible. Theowen was started to eat mashed vegetables, though she seemed much happy to play with her food, smashing her hands in the mush if they let her close enough to the plate when feeding her. Lothiriel liked when Eomer fed Theowen, if only because of the faces he made at her, trying to get her to eat off of the spoon her held to her little lips.</p><p>It was a secret of the court, she thought, because she was a little certain that if Eomer ever heard any of his courtiers talking about how hard he tried to make the tiny princess laugh, he might give them that fierce look that seemed to make men fall silent. Even when they had screamed at each other, and fought hard, even when he fell into a silent rage, he had never given that look to her, by grace.</p><p>It was hard to reconcile the man she knew other people saw with the one she did, especially in moments like this. He had ever told Lothiriel that she softened his nature, and she had never really questioned it, but she wondered if Theowen didn’t soften him even further. She wondered if she gave him more children, if he would eventually have all the irritability of a fruit jelly.</p><p>Lothiriel drank her wine, smiling at her little family as Theowen opened her mouth, dropping a ball of potatoes on the floor. Eomer looked at the blob of starch then back at Theowen, “Have you eaten enough then?”</p><p>Theowen babbled something, chewing on his finger, absentmindedly.</p><p>“She might have done,” Lothiriel smiled, reaching for the little girl and holding Theowen against her chest, and letting her food settle, and let Eomer eat some of his supper. “I’ll go get her ready for bed,” she stood after a while, and curtsied, Eomer taking her hand and press his lips to her knuckle as she left him, his eyes full of tender affection. Lothiriel squeezed his fingers a little as she left his side.</p><p>She checked Theowen’s nappy, and changed her, singing a lullaby from her own childhood as she rocked the child to sleep. She was growing so fast, and Lothiriel wondered how much longer she would do this. The hazel eyes finally closed and Lothiriel tucked Theowen in her cradle only a few minutes before Eomer came in to join them. She pressed a finger over her lips and setting her book aside.</p><p>Eomer smiled and helped her out of her dress, even if he knew she did not really need his help. It was their custom now two years into their marriage, that he would help her undress. His fingers gently took the new golden comb from her hair, a gift she had been given a week before, for their anniversary. She had given him a set of cloak pins, after not being sure what manner of gift to give him at all. He was a nightmare to find gifts for.</p><p>They cuddled together in bed, the covers pulled against the coming chill in the night air, her head on his shoulder as she dosed into sleep, contented with her life.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had been a little harsher than he had meant to be, Lothiriel knew, and he had likely not meant to be as unaware of how difficult it was to mind Theowen. She had started pulling herself up on anything that she thought would support her weight, and more often than not, she was correct. But Theowen had pulled on a tablecloth and a plate had come off the table as the little girl tried to stand. She had a little bruise on her cheek and had cried for almost half an hour as Lothiriel held her and calmed her little panic. Theowen had likely not felt much physical pain yet in her short life, and her parents were happy to keep it that way.</p><p>“What is this?” Eomer asked, alarmed, seeing the little mark.</p><p>Lothiriel had explained, not thinking that he would take it as seriously as he did.</p><p>He had railed at her, holding Theowen on his hip as if their daughter was still upset by it, “Were you not watching her?”</p><p>When Lothiriel’s mind finally processed the question, she turned a slow look on him, considering his words, “I was, but I was also looking over the reports from the farms in Snowbourne.”</p><p>“Damn the farms!” Eomer bellowed, smoothing his hand over Theowen’s back as she started to cry at the raised voices. He held her a little more carefully, holding her, and shushing her.</p><p>“I know you are irritated, but-”</p><p>“I know that you are quite occupied, but I should think that as a mother, you would by now know that Theowen comes before all other things.”</p><p>“Yes, but-”</p><p>“No! I appreciate all that you have done, but perhaps you might either keep a better eye on her, or else we should find a governess.”</p><p>Lothiriel said nothing, letting Eomer calm down. She looked at him, sitting with Theowen on his lap, smoothing a gentle finger over the bruise, muttering in Rohirric to her.</p><p>“Eomer,” she said at long last, walking over to him, and rubbing her hand over his tense shoulders.</p><p>“I know, I am sorry,” he groaned, “I just do not want any harm to come to her at all.”</p><p>“Perhaps, you might take her for a day, and see if you can manage it,” she teased, her fingers working a knot out of his shoulder.</p><p>Eomer turned his dark eyes on her, clearly not thinking that was a joke, “Perhaps I will.”</p><p>Lothiriel raised a brow at him, “You need not, Eomer. I am not meaning that you need to take her to council meetings.”</p><p>“No, I will do,” he looked rather pleased with his egalitarian idea, “She is my heir, and should she be my only child, Bema forbid, it would do her good to have some idea of what it is her father had done.”</p><p>His wife blinked at him, waiting for him to realize that it was a stupid idea, but he seemed to only become more pleased with himself.</p><p>He was not going to get anything done, and then everyone would think it was her fault. Lothiriel consoled herself that at least it might be amusing.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>The King of Rohan did not have the foresight, or time to design any sort of device to carry Her Little Highness around, and as such simply carried her around, and sat her on his knee through the council, looking as attentive as any seven month old likely ever had.</p><p>He wondered absently if he could find a way to get his perfectly cheerful baby to scowl at people through a system of conditioning but realized that he was not paying attention to his work and had to turn his eyes back to the papers spread out in front of him. Theowen started fussing and fidgeting to be let down, and he settled her down on the floor, rubbing his brow irritably, trying to follow what it was he was meant to be doing. As he settled back into his duties, he looked up to check on Theowen, finding that she was not where he assumed that she would have been. He held his hand up, to silence his lords and his men, looking under the council table, and around the room.</p><p>She was not there, but she could not have gotten far. He asked for a brief adjournment, and hurried from the council room, carefully looking around in evert corner, and behind every piece of furniture, looking for his daughter.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“Whatever are you doing, Your Highness?” Gredda asked, stooping in front of the princess as she crawled along.</p><p>Theowen settled back on her haunches, smiling up at Gredda, her tiny hand reaching for the tapestry, trying to pull herself up a little, babbling in her baby speech, chewing on a finger.</p><p>The Keeper of the House smiled down at the little girl, and scooped her up, “Oh, I dare say you have gotten away from whoever was meant to be minding you.” Theowen burbled out some reply or other, clearly wanting to be taken seriously, and Gredda nodded, “Oh, aye, your highness, you are very quick and quite clever.”</p><p>Eomer King looked a little panicked coming into the hall but seemed to realize that his daughter hadn’t tumbled down the stairs outside at least. He let out a breath, “Oh, Thank Bema.”</p><p>Gredda smiled, “I will not tell Her Majesty,” she held Theowen carefully, passing her over to the King before curtsying. She had known Eomer from childhood and was fond of him as she would in turn be fond of the little princess when she would come and ask for sweets.</p><p>“I would appreciate that, Gredda,” Eomer looked more than a little embarrassed, “though I might need to tell her myself.”</p><p>Gredda had ever been a politely stern in the presence of Lothiriel Queen, her own personal feeling towards Her Majesty aside, the hard countenance being simply a habit of her own making. Theowen’s little hand reached back out to the older woman, as if she could sense the gentle weakness of the woman, “You may do well to, Your Majesty, for I am uncertain why you are the one tending to the princess.”</p><p>“My wife may have made a joke that I would do better to mind her, and I took the bait to prove her wrong,” Eomer smiled.</p><p>“Why on earth…”</p><p>“Because I am an doing my best to prove a point,” Eomer admitted, his head tilting. He smiled a little at Gredda, having seen the woman as a kindly soul from one of the hardest times of his life until this moment, “I might have been a little irritable with Her Majesty because Her Highness got into some trouble and injured herself.”</p><p>Gredda shook her head, “Well, I would certainly never think to give an opinion on your actions, Your Majesty.” Every single thing that she would not say was there in the carefully pitying look she gave him, shaking her head little and trying not to laugh, “Is there anything I might do to help, my lord?”</p><p>“No, thank you, Gredda,” Eomer bounced Theowen gently to stop her squirming, feeling carefully assured that he would not fall for that trick again.</p><p>Her attempts to free herself from confinement led to fussiness from Theowen, and her father held her against his chest rocking her a little to try to calm her down, humming a little. She still cried, ready to give up, Eomer started telling her the stories in the tapestries, taking her hand and gently laying it on the tapestries, smoothing her small fingers over the woven tales.</p><p>“This is our history,” Eomer said in a low voice, remembering Lothiriel holding Theowen on her lap and reading to her, that it sometimes calmed Theowen, “This is the falling of Helm Hammerhand,” he began, “he was the ninth king of our line and was son of Gram.”</p><p>Slowly Theowen stopped fussing and seemed to listen to her father telling a story full of foolishness and vengeance and the brief rule of the only Queen of Rohan, who had ruled not in her own right but who had been forced to give that power into a regency until he son came of age. He did his best through his telling of story to tell Theowen that she might claim power outright if there was no son, feeling a little strange in his telling, and wondering if perhaps Lothiriel would do well to raise their daughter to be a warrior queen.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>There was something about watching Eomer trace his finger over the tapestries, telling their daughter the stories that was woven into those hangings, Theowen’s small fingers reached out toward the fabric covering. Eomer leaned with her a little closer, letting her fingers touch the tapestry, but his hand rested on hers ensuring that she was careful in the touching of history.</p><p>Lothiriel only knew what was happening because the council had sent Gamling to fetch her to see it Eomer King might be drawn back to his duty. She patted Gaming’s arm gently, and in a low voice advised him to tell the council that Eomer would call for them when he was ready, and that they might take their mid-day meal until that tome where Eomer would recall them.</p><p> She had not really meant to show him how hard it was to manage child-rearing and duty, but then she had not in truth meant to show him anything. He had decided that this was a good idea, and she had thought that he might understand it, but for his personality. She watched him, and she felt the burden with some irritability that her point had in part been made. She would resume her duties, take care of their daughter, minding her ladies and presenting the image of a goodly wife and queen, she would maintain the household and maintenance of the Golden Hall, and she would through all of that give Eomer her own council and help him make decisions. As dedicated to her family as she was, she knew that she needed to work, and to keep up the expectations of her responsibilities.</p><p>Eomer kissed the side of Theowen’s head as he spoke, and Lothiriel wondered if she had in some way withheld Theowen from him in some way, and she took a deep, quiet breath, putting that concern on the list of things to consider. She knew that Eomer needed to work. Why should she not have just shaken off the concern right off, and taken Theowen with her in the morning? She loved her family, and she knew that Eomer was more important than she was, even if she did double check a fair amount of his papers before they were approved by him. She wished that she could have simply gone to meet with his council in his stead, but she could not. The King was in Edoras, in Meduseld. I was not her place to tell her husband how to rule, not publicly. The Lords might be pleased enough by her gentle guiding hand on their King’s shoulder, but they would not be pleased to hear her speak out of her own right.</p><p>Lothiriel wanted quietly for the council chamber to clear out, watching the long trail of men politely bowing to her as she composed her face in the calm mask of indifference, though she smiled casting her eyes back at Eomer and Theowen. She felt a sweet feeling in the pit of her stomach watching them.</p><p>She sat back in the chair at the head of the table, looking around the room as she had done whenever Eomer left the capitol. She looked over his papers, organizing them in the order of importance. Her hands smoothed over the armrests of the chair with ease as she read the pages.</p><p>How that power had been a burden, she knew, but she had wielded it, and she for a brief moment wanted to take the power back. Taking a deep breath, she stood quickly and went back into the hall, hoping not to be seen coming out of the council chamber. What had she been thinking? It was not her place to interfere beyond what Eomer asked her to do.</p><p>She rested her hand on his arm carefully, “My dear, you might take something to eat and then call your council back.”</p><p>Eomer looked a little shocked, “I am certain that you are right.”</p><p>“Has Dada been telling you the history of the Riddermark?” Lothiriel asked, grinning at their daughter as Eomer handed Theowen over to her arms, “Are you learning so much, my little darling?” she looked up at Eomer for a moment, hesitating, a moment before she spoke, “I rearranged your notes to what I think might be the most pressing matters.” She smiled up at him, feeling a sense of relief as she admitted it to him.</p><p>Eomer smiled, “Thank you, my love,” he smoothed a hand over her shoulder, and kissed her brow.</p><p>“I think it is time for someone’s nap,” Lothiriel smiled, rubbed Theowen’s back, “Has she been fussy?”</p><p>“A little,” Eomer admitted, “she ran from the Council, clearly displeased with their ideas for governance.”</p><p>“She might learn in time,” Lothiriel opened the door to the royal apartment, humming quietly to Theowen in her arms, to help her get to sleep. She looked up and saw Eomer standing there, looking a little embarrassed, at least she knew that look as embarrassment. He was still the large imposing warrior king. She held her hand to him, calling him over, “What is the matter, love?”</p><p>“I should not have brought Theowen with me, I knew that something like this would happen.”</p><p>“Then you mean that you have been using my child to avoid work?” Lothiriel asked, as if scandalized, having never considered such a thing as possible. Her dainty hand rested over her heart, “I do not know what I am meant to think of this!”</p><p>He shook his head at her, “Alright, enough of that, wife.”</p><p>“No, I am shocked and dismayed,” she said, trying her best not to laugh, “I am not certain I can be Queen to such a man as that!” Her hand moved to her brow feigning a faint.</p><p>Eomer pressed a kiss to Theowen’s head, “Well, if you mean to leave, I am keeping our daughter. She is quite useful.” He kissed Lothiriel’s cheek, nuzzling her face, “I should get back to my work.”</p><p>She smiled at him, “Alright.”</p><p>He had joked often enough with his confidantes that he should abdicate and give his wife the throne but knew that he could not in truth do it, even if he was concerned for her. Lothiriel needed work beyond her mothering, try as she did to keep her projects going, Eomer knew that the more children they had, the less time she would have for her own pursuits. Theowen was still too young for a governess to which Eomer wondered if it was a sacrifice that Lothiriel was making, he wished she didn’t need to.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey all, here's a shorter chapter. I have had sort of more snippet ideas than anything else. <br/>I have also been nervous because one of those ideas might leave some readers sad, and I am doing my best to ease into it.<br/>As ever I hope this finds you all well, and safe!<br/>Please enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Theowen’s parents spent more time than either would ever admit waiting to watch her first little steps, since she had started to pull herself upright on any surface, she could get her hands on.</p><p>“From what Waerhild told me, when infants do that, they are strengthening their leg muscles to be able to walk,” Lothiriel said, “so, she might be trying to walk anytime now.”</p><p>“I am not certain that is so quick as that,” Eomer teased her, not wanting her to point out that he was watching with the same attention.</p><p>Lothiriel gave him a look from where she was sitting on the floor but said nothing else. She had some illuminated books sent to her from Dol Amroth, and she had taken to reading with Theowen so she could look at the pictures as she listened. Theowen sat on the wide spread of skirts between her mother’s knees, her little finger trailing over an inked image. “Perhaps we should encourage her.”</p><p>“Of course, but I have never heard of anyone walking so young.”</p><p>“Well, she is advanced,” Lothiriel teased, looking down at Theowen, “you are so very advanced, my little darling.”</p><p>Sorting through the letters, Eomer shook his head, “Your Aunt wrote to you, and Gadrien,” he held the folded parchments to her, sorting the rest of the letters into the nice little organized stacks that Lothiriel liked so well, business, trade, and farming. He only turned his head at the little sigh from Lothiriel.</p><p>“Gadrien is pregnant again,” Lothiriel said.</p><p>Eomer started to smile before noting the strange look on his wife’s face, “And that is good, is it not?”</p><p>“Of course, but,” Lothiriel wagged her head a little, as if hesitating to finish her thought. “it is not uncommon for… my brother might take a mistress.”</p><p>“Why?” Eomer asked, confused, “Are they having trouble?”</p><p>“Not in so many words,” Lothiriel folding the letter carefully, and setting it aside, “it is simply something that some lords do.”</p><p>“Betray their wives when they are carrying their children?”</p><p>“I am not certain that he will, but Gadrien seems concerned.”</p><p>Eomer studied her, confused by what she was saying. He had of course known that some men did this, but he had thought that Elphir was a man of honor, “Has he done so in the past?”</p><p>“I think he has,” Lothiriel’s voice was noncommittal.</p><p>“Thiriel,” he said, coaxing her words out, his brow raised a little.</p><p>“I do not know for certain, but I think he did when Gadrien was carrying Mithriel. It is not uncommon in Gondor, and it might be something that is done here, though I would not know,” Lothiriel looked at him, her lips pursed, even as her smile fought to get through, “if I am entirely honest, I thought you might take a mistress when I was pregnant.”</p><p>“Why would you think that?”</p><p>“Well, you are rather passionate,” she smirked.</p><p>Eomer stooped next to her, and tugged a lock of hair teasingly, “No.”</p><p>“Well, I am well aware that you are not that sort.”</p><p>Eomer shook his head, looking at her. A slow harsh change came over his features, “Do you think that Faramir-”</p><p>“No,” Lothiriel laughed stopping him short, “He is far too romantically minded, and if he had done, Eowyn would have killed him.” She lifted the book out of Theowen's way as she scooted herself toward freedom, and she wondered absently if their daughter took after her father in a need for active freedom. Theowen did have a strong personality when it came to it, and Lothiriel loved it.</p><p>She turned her eyes back to Eomer, and watched the sudden tension melt out of his shoulders and his dark eyes trail down to look over her shoulder at the book in her hands. He took it carefully and set it in its place on the shelf she had brought with her, stacked full of books, little figures and curios. Lothiriel rubbed her brow, looking over the letter from her aunt, already knowing what was in it before she broke the wax seal.</p><p>Ivriniel's letters of late had been full of banal family news with a more than dainty peppering of guilting of whether or not Lothiriel had been taking care to instruct the nurse to keep Theowen away from too many rich foods, and asking whether or not Lothiriel might be expecting another child yet. She did not need to tell Eomer what the letter said, for she had already railed and ranted enough on the score of her pestering aunt. Before she had know that Lothiriel was pregnant the first time, Ivriniel had told her that she would not be safe without a child, and Lothiriel now wondered if her aunt only considered sons children. It was a petty thought, but she was still irritated.</p><p>He rested his head against the top of hers, his fingers working out the tension in her shoulders, his eyes sliding closed for a moment as he settled again into the close sense of family. Eomer rubbed the knots out of Lothiriel’s shoulders, watching their daughter babbling excitedly at the freedom of her movement. This had become a strange little ritual, that Lothiriel would read to Theowen and that he would sit by to speak with Lothiriel whenever Theowen's attention was strained.</p><p>Perhaps it was a little silly, but these small domestic moments kept him sane, and he held them so close to his heart, knowing that time would speed on past his control and that they would become sweet memories. May the Valar protect anyone that sought to hurt his little family, for his wrath was a thing to be feared, and even if he had teased Lothiriel during their courtship, his temper would be called legend in history.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>When Theowen took her first wobbling steps, Lothiriel all but screamed for someone to bring Eomer King as quickly as possible, in hopes that he would be able to see it. Theowen plopped on her rear within moments of starting, but her father would not be moved from where he sat on the floor, attempting to encourage her to walk again, if even for only a moment.</p><p>Lothiriel shook her head and worked at her stitching and did her very best not to feel smug that she had seen the first steps. She held the fabric up to her face as if she was checking her work, to hide her smile at Eomer’s coaxing, and lifting Theowen onto her feet as if to encourage her little feet to move.</p><p>She glanced up at Lord Fulgar hesitated at the precipice of her solar, his meaty hands wringing themselves like soaked laundry as he struggled to find the words that might bring his King back to work. She gave him a sympathetic look, quacking a shoulder at him.</p><p>“My Lord, Eomer,” Lord Fulgar began, “There are quite a few-”</p><p>“No,” Eomer snapped, the stormy tone coming into his voice as he shot that look at the older man.</p><p>Lothiriel bit her lip, looking back at the tear she was mending in her husband’s shirt.</p><p>Lord Fulgar shot Lothiriel a pleading look, his head shifting back a little, beaconing her outside of Eomer’s hearing, and it took a considerable measure of control to stand and excuse herself quietly. What did he think she would be able to do about it?</p><p>She smoothed her hands over her skirts as she followed the chief advisor out of doors, “How may I help you, my lord?”</p><p>“I would appreciate any help that you might be able to give in this moment, Your Majesty,” Lord Fulgar said, and it pleased her just a little to see the lord sweat and grovel as far as his personal honor would allow.</p><p>“I am not certain how you think I might help,” Lothiriel said as diplomatically as she could, “has anyone ever managed to make Eomer King do anything other than what he wishes to?”</p><p>“Yes,” Lord Fulgar gave her a significant look, and Lothiriel had to bite back a long trail of a response that would, by her admission, be a list of times she had not managed to get Eomer to change his actions. She was rather aware of the pigheadedness of her husband.</p><p>“Even I know a losing battle when I see one, my lord. If you can convince the princess to walk, I am certain that we might be able to convince my lord husband to return to his duties.” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if Lord Fulgar would like her to ask if she should to work as Eomer’s proxy, but she sensed that this would not be an appropriate solution.</p><p>He seemed to puff a little like a seabird in his irritation, not sure how to tell her to win her to his point of view. She was a woman, a wife, and a queen, and as the latter of those things, there was not much that he could say to her besides, “Please, do your best, if you would be so kind, Your Majesty.”</p><p>Lothiriel smiled, “I will send him back at the earliest opportunity, my lord.”</p><p>She turned on her heel and went back into her solar, debating if she had any options at all in this battle. Eomer almost sounded disheartened trying to replicate their little girl walking, and it broke Lothiriel’s heart a little. An idea came to her, and she picked up a sweet bread from a side table, looking at Theowen a moment.</p><p>She passed the bread to Eomer and whispered in his ear, “When diplomacy fails, remember that there is always bribery.”</p><p>Eomer grinned at her, “You are devious, my love.”</p><p>Lothiriel smirked down at him, and did her best to maintain the stranglehold on her smugness when her idea worked.</p><p>There were high-pitched, shrieking giggles as Eomer tossed Theowen up in the air. Her laughter had been the sweetest sound that Lothiriel had ever heard in her life as she watched Eomer spin her around up over his head. He bent his arms, lowering her to kiss her cheek, “Ah, what a smart girl you are!”</p><p>“Papa!” Theowen giggled before being thrown back up in the air and squealing.</p><p>She would never admit it, because she knew that Eomer would always catch Theowen, but it always gave Lothiriel a mild heart attack when he tossed their daughter so high in the air that she almost touched the ceiling.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>She nestled Theowen closer to her chest, the chubby baby legs swinging over the spring grasses, and Lothiriel pointed out the different birds that flew over head as she carried her daughter over the plain outside of the city. Eomer had a brilliant idea in putting a bell on Theowen which so far had garnered mixed results as Theowen had not yet figured out how to untie the ribbon harness. It worked even better when Lothiriel took her out to walk outside of the city, or even in it.</p><p>Princess Theowen was by estimation rather popular with the other children in her social group, her baby talk transforming into something that resembled actual speech sometimes. Lothiriel imagined that it must have been frustrating to understanding words and what everyone was saying without being able to articulate her own feelings. It did lead to some temper tantrums, but her parents had learned to let her scream and rail and calm down, to let her come back to them. She was indeed their child, with her tiny wrath.</p><p>Caelon followed at Lothiriel’s hip as he had ever done, even if he was moving a little slower than he had done in the past. Eomer had become more and more concerned about their hound’s health, and Lothiriel had done her best to keep him as healthy as she could. He was about ten summers old now, and she was doing her best to prepare for the inevitable, but neither she nor Eomer seemed to want to speak of it.</p><p>She reached down and scratched at his shaggy head, looking down at his canine smile, “Is that a good scratch? Is that?” She settled Theowen down in front of him, and her tiny fingers wrapped around his collar instinctively, walking along beside him.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“I know you might not want to talk about this, but would you want to get a puppy?” Lothiriel asked abruptly, setting her book down.</p><p>Eomer looked at her, a little perplexed, “A what?”</p><p>“Sometimes an older dog with good training, like our very good fellow, can help with training a puppy,” she said, tactfully.</p><p>He looked at her, considering his words, “Do you think it wise?”</p><p>“I know it might seem harsh, but I think that it is good for our children to have a pet in the household, and Caelon is…” she paused.</p><p>“I know, I think that perhaps you are right, but I am not certain that I am comfortable with the idea of having a replacement for him in the corner.”</p><p>“I do not mean to say that.”</p><p>“I know,” Eomer took a breath, “Let me think about it.”</p><p>She kissed him gently, and put her forehead on his, rubbing her nose against his.</p><p>He smiled at her, and lay back on the pillows, knowing that Caelon was sitting beside the cradle where their eighteen-month-old slept. He did like the concept of having dogs around the children, because they would start trying for another child soon. They had already begun speaking about it, and he would not complain of a full nursery so long as Lothiriel was able to not feel too terribly overwhelmed. He thought that when there was another child that they might look into finding someone to help Lothiriel and take some of the stress from her.</p><p>“I think that it might be a good idea,” Eomer said after a few minutes of silence. He had meant to sleep on it, but as ever his mind moved ahead of his wishes.</p><p>“If you are certain.”</p><p>“I think I am.”</p><p>She set her book aside and raked her fingers through his hear with gentle fingers, settling beside him in the bed, “I do not want to put any pressure on you.” When Caelon died, Lothiriel was certain Eomer would be inconsolable, and she could not blame him because she was not at all sure that she would not be a blubbering mess.</p><p>Eomer did not speak, just looking at her, his gaze was gentle as ever and she still blushed a little. He had once thought that she would in time become so used to him looking at her that she would not color at all. Now, almost three years married, she still turned pink sometimes, and it should not have pleased him as much as it did.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lothiriel bounced her fussing daughter, doing her best not to laugh at her distress over something so small, “It is alright, dear,” she cooed, reaching her pointer finger out to stroke over the snake’s smooth head.</p><p>“Grass snakes will not hurt you,” Eomer assured, adjusting his hold on the little snake that he held, showing Theowen, trying to keep her from being afraid of them. The little thing had slithered over her shoe and sent her into a screaming fit.</p><p>Lothiriel held her hand to him, letting the snake slide over her forearm, twisting around her wrist, and showing Theowen who had thankfully stopped crying, and just stared, with wide eyes. Eomer took gentle hold of Theowen’s hand, helping her touch the scaly side of the animal.</p><p>“See? Gentle, gentle,” Eomer smiled at her little determined face, not wanting to fuss anymore. She was a strong little thing. He picked Theowen up, letting Lothiriel release the snake who had not likely wanted to have any part of this calming lesson for the princess of Rohan, any more than it likely wanted to be chased as soon as Theowen was put down. She pushed the tall grass out of her way as she went, trying to find another snake to play with, wanting to show that she wasn’t afraid and Lothiriel smiled from where she had been sitting on the blanket next to her husband, eating their midday meal under the October sky. She lay back, closing her eyes under the warm sun and gentle wind, a little too pleased that it had stayed warm longer than it seemed was normal.</p><p>She felt Eomer shift on the blanket coming back to sit, leaning on his elbow as likely as anything, and even with her eyes closed she could almost see him watching Theowen running through the grasses, his ears carefully trying to pick out where the little bell was clinking if she stooped. Caelon followed after her with a slow pace, clearly doing his best to keep the puppy, Saeburh in check. She had an idea that Caelon didn’t particularly like this young upstart addition to the family, and the Royal Couple found it amusing that for the majority of his life Caelon had been an energetic hound and seemed to have taken on the role of elder statesman, gently resting his large paw on the puppy’s head as if to supplant her.</p><p>Eomer had been away with the riders on patrol for a few weeks, having retaken this habit since Theowen had been born. She wondered if he would hold off on leaving again when she told him, but she had waited to do so, wanting to let Eomer relax in being home again. The day before, she had come to wake Theowen from her nap and found Eomer sleeping against the headboard with Theowen napping on his chest. It had been so sweet, that Lothiriel had not been able to force herself to wake either of them.</p><p>“Eowyn and Faramir want to come next summer for a visit, and Elphir and Gadrien might bring the children. I think they mean to have a family vacation of it,” Lothiriel said, her low voice carrying on the breeze.</p><p>“That would be lovely,” Eomer agreed, “perhaps we have them out to Aldburg for a while.”</p><p>“That was my thought.”</p><p>They had taken a few weeks in the summer to get away from the responsibilities of their lives. There was something so beautiful about fleeing to their southern property and being a family away from other people’s expectations, even if Eomer had been a little annoyed at Lothiriel for sneaking off to inspect the farms. It would make travel a little easier for their families, cutting their travel a little shorter, and there certainly were more than enough rooms for everyone.</p><p>“It would be good for the children to see each other,” Lothiriel mused, opening her eyes a little at long last, her hand shielding her gaze from the sun, “As long as I am able to travel by June.”</p><p>“Why would you not?” Eomer looked down at her, concerned, his gaze a little hard, waiting to hear what she meant by her words. Was she considering some other project that would delay them?</p><p>She smirked up at him, her free hand smoothing carefully over her belly, “It might still be a little early, but…”</p><p>Those dark eyes widened as he sat up, a little sharply, “Are you certain?”</p><p>“The midwife seems to be so,” she shrugged gently, resting her weight on her elbows.</p><p>Eomer’s smile faltered a little as he looked at her, “Thiriel… are you ready for another child?”</p><p>She says up, “I am far less concerned than I was last time if that is what you mean.”</p><p>“I mean, we would have two children under three years old,” he was speaking carefully which always amused his wife a little, he knew, “I am simply concerned that you might have quite a bit more on your shoulders than you already have, and I am therefore concerned that it might be too much.”</p><p>Lothiriel sat up a little, and followed Theowen’s progress back to them, her high-pitched giggle emanating over the field with the little bell. “Perhaps we ought to finally hire a governess.”</p><p>“If you do not mind it?”</p><p>“I knew we would need one eventually,” she sat up, reaching her hands toward Theowen, “Come to mama, my little darling.”</p><p>“Ama,” Theowen crawled into her lap, her little hands, holding fistfuls of grass, holding them out to her mother like a strange sort of offering.</p><p>“The dogs can eat it,” Eomer said, showing her how to hold her hand flat for the dogs to eat from her palm. He picked up Saeburh, scratching her behind her small ears as Caelon rested his head on Lothiriel’s leg, his nose prodding Theowen carefully.</p><p>Lothiriel cut an apple into thin slices for Theowen to eat, “You are going to be a big sister, Theowen.”</p><p>Her little hazel eyes turned up to look at her mother, babbling a little.</p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>Theowen smiled, babbling on, “Baba.”</p><p>“Yes, dear, we’ll be having another baby,” Lothiriel said, smiling at Eomer’s beaming face.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“You come highly recommended, Mistress Gleolith,” Lothiriel said, having settled back in her chair, looking over the references she had been given for the applying governess. She eyes scanned the words, “You have been with a few families thus far, and I wondered why you had not stayed on with any of them for more than a few years.” Lothiriel smoothed a hand over her little belly without realizing that she was doing so.</p><p>“In most cases, the families have only needed help while their children were young, though I am trained in introductory education,” Mistress Gleolith smiled.</p><p>The woman had not been what Lothiriel had expected in a governess, her own experience leaving a hard impression on the job all together. She seemed rather than a stern mistress of a household, more like a grandmother that would pet and spoil her charges. She wondered if this would thus be appropriate, though she could not think of any particular reason why.</p><p>“I have been tending to Princess Theowen myself, but as I am with child again, I doubt that I will have as much time after the birth, and His Majesty, Eomer King and I have been decided that bringing some help on might be practical.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>The governess knew everything that Lothiriel was saying, or else had guessed at it, but Lothiriel still found herself speaking if not to fill the silence, or to justify her decision to bring on help. She knew full well that the majority of her subjects managed having multiple children without the extra help, and Lothiriel had thought to do the same, at least until the children needed to begin with their tutoring.</p><p>“Is Her Highness very active?” Mistress Gleolith asked.</p><p>“She can be,” Lothiriel cast a careful look to where Theowen was, under the window, spare bits of parchment and colored bits of wax in her hands, scribbling over the rough texture of the pages, “she just started running.”</p><p>Mistress Gleolith smiled, “That is a blessing and a trial, I am certain.”</p><p>Lothiriel hesitated, “I will have these references confirmed, and if all goes well, you will hear from us.”</p><p>“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Mistress Gleolith nodded.</p><p>“But I would like to make one thing perfectly clear, if I may,” Lothiriel’s back straightened, her face taking on that cool mask of reservation, “Any physical discipline is to be done by my husband or by myself. I will not have my daughter caned or made to suffer any other such form of discipline at your hands.”</p><p>“Of course, not,” Gleolith actually had the good sense to look startled by this statement, “I have never hurt any of my charges.”</p><p>“Very well, then, I do not foresee any difficulty in having your application for this position approved,” Lothiriel softened, smiling a little, in spite of the mildly horrified look on the woman’s face, “I hope that I have not made a poor impression, but my own governess was far from a kindly woman.”</p><p>“Ama! Up!” Theowen called from her spot on the floor, waving her little piece of parchment in her hand to show off one of her scribbled drawing, clearly thinking that it was a masterpiece beyond the world’s deserving. Her babbling words almost made sense if not for her excitement, “Luhh!”</p><p>Lothiriel scooped her daughter up onto her knee, and looked at the parchment with a gasp, “Beautiful, my darling!”</p><p>Mistress Gleolith did not seem at all uncomfortable in the presence of such affection between a noble mother and child, but rather seemed pleased by it, making Lothiriel blush a little.</p><p>“Go show, Mistress Gleolith,” Lothiriel whispered handing Theowen back the drawing and setting her on the floor.</p><p>It was a sort of blessing that Theowen had never in her life thus far been shy went scrambling over on her stockinged feet.</p><p>“You have a dear child, Your Majesty,” Mistress Gleolith smiled, having given the little princess all of the assurances that would ever be needed that her art was amazing, and that she was a brilliant child, before letting herself be led by the hand to look at Theowen’s toys.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“And what do you think of this one?” Eomer asked, almost preparing himself for another long list of reasons that the proposed governess simply would not do, even if these reasons seemed to have little enough basis in reality.</p><p>“Perhaps,” Lothiriel admitted, her lips pursing as Heohild pushed the last few pins into her hair.</p><p>Eomer’s brows shot up, “Really?”</p><p>“Theowen seems to like her, and her references seem true enough,” she replied, her tone even as she fought the urge to snip back at his incredulous look.</p><p>Eomer let out a small, surprised noise in his throat as he stooped to pick up a few of Theowen’s toys from where she threw them, sometimes attempting to coerce Saeburh into picking them up and bringing them to her, a plan that rarely seemed to work, but rather ended in anarchy. This total destruction of plaything seemed to entertain the princess too much, though her father did find it amusing to watch her engage in a tug of war with one of her poor dollies as the rope, her screeching laughter almost sounding like a battle cry. He sat with Theowen as she showed him her drawings and did her best to talk to him. He waited for a lapse in her attentions before asking, “Would she be willing to sleep in the nursery? There is a small room that could be converted for her use.”</p><p>“Yes,” Lothiriel thanked Heohild and let her go, “though I did perhaps make a mistake in telling her that if Theowen needed me during the night I was to be told.”</p><p>He shook his head, wondering what the point was in having someone to watch their children if Lothiriel meant to carry on as if they had no such person in their employ. They had decided to let Theowen sleep in the nursery because they both knew that soon enough Eomer would be forced to resume the late-night errand of fetching food for Lothiriel, and neither particularly wanted to risk waking the toddler. She slept well, unless something woke her, then she would refuse to go back to sleep, having decided, Lothiriel thought, that she had been woken for a reason, and as such must wake.</p><p>There was little else that could be done for it beside letting her sleep in her own bed, which seemed to delight her. Eomer suspected that Theowen from time to time pretended to be asleep until her parents left her room and then would get up and play with the dogs. He was not inclined to say anything, though he had caught her once. Having heard her giggling had opened the door and frowned at her until she climbed back into bed, Saeburh curled next to her on the covers, looking just as guilty as her mistress.</p><p>“Gleolith also seems to be of the sort of governess that at least teaches her charges after a fashion, rather than letting them run wild, or keeping them quiet,” Lothiriel said. Eomer had sent out the requests for applicants and had reviewed most of them before handing them over to Lothiriel, claiming he was helping, but she knew it was more to try to ensure she actually interviewed the women.</p><p>“What else have you two been up to?” Eomer asked Theowen who clamored to be lifted.</p><p>“She played with Eobrand and Heogwyn,” Lothiriel said, naming off the children that Theowen seemed closest with, “I would not be surprised if they form some unholy triad when they are old enough.”</p><p>Eomer smiled, “Of course our children will be hellions, I am not certain we should expect anything else.”</p><p>“I heard once that the trouble we give our parents is given back in three-fold on us when we are ourselves parents.”</p><p>Eomer pulled a comically horrified face, “I would pray for some divine intervention if that should in truth come to pass.”</p><p>“Were you a terrible youth?”</p><p>“Not so terrible, but I have heard enough tales about you, my love.”</p><p>She did her best not to chuckle at that, but failed a little, standing and smoothing a hand over his hair, “I am certain you were the best-behaved child there ever was.”</p><p>“I had a very concise set of morals from a young age, and thus kept the rest of the children out of trouble,” Eomer said, his chin jutting up at her.</p><p>“Oh, undoubtedly. Perhaps I will ask Mistress Gredda to confirm this for me.”</p><p>“Well, I mean that I was the least badly behaved,” Eomer quickly amended.</p><p>“That sounds at least a little closer to the truth,” Lothiriel laughed, kissing his forehead, “Dinner?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have to give a thank you to mythologicalmango for her discussion of puppies and their importance in early childhood development for the inspiration that I've used for this chapter. I am going to try to find ever more adorable bonding moments between Theowen and her puppy.<br/>I also thank my husband for the idea of getting children comfortable around snakes, as we have a community of garner snakes under our porch and he has been showing them to our niece. My husband gives me more ideas than he even knows and is a great inspiration.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Alright all, this chapter is going to be a little silly.<br/>I regret nothing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I would like to be present at the birth,” Eomer said with no preamble, his head resting gently over the swelling shape of Lothiriel’s belly.</p><p>She looked at him, confused and perturbed by this announcement, her mouth full of meat pie. It was a wonder that she ever ate because he seemed to have learned that if her mouth was full, if he hurried away before she finished the food in her mouth that he might take her silence for assent and hurry away. She looked at him, swallowing, “Why would you want that?”</p><p>“Because I do not think that I can stand pacing the hall and waiting for news again,” Eomer said, looking up at her, his cheek still resting on her belly, doing his best to look innocent, as if that might give merit to his request.</p><p>“Well, I am not exactly excited about birthing, husband,” she said carefully, “I doubt very much that you will want to see anything that is included in it.”</p><p>“I understand, but,” he sat up a little, “I feel almost as if I am missing something by not being in the room when our child is born.”</p><p>“You are missing a lot of blood and some choice language,” Lothiriel said, wondering if she should allow it, and if Eomer would faint. While the mental image of her outwardly irritable husband fainting amused her in theory, she knew full well that there was no way it would be as amusing in reality.</p><p>“I have seen blood before, and my ears are not so virgin to such language as that,” Eomer looked as if he was unaware that she was gently telling him that she did not want him to be in the room.</p><p>She let out a breath, “Let me sleep on it, please. Though, I will say that I do not think it wise.”</p><p>He hesitated, his mouth already opened, and she could almost see him mouthing that he was not asking permission but seemed to have thought better of that. He was a good husband, and if she had thought that he would lose some of his hardheadedness in time, she had been in part correct. They had been married now three years, and he sometimes he was becoming a little calmer in his reign, and his impetuous seemed to soften, but he still got ideas in his head that she did not agree with in the least.</p><p>Where would he even have gotten the idea in the first place?</p><p>Did he think that birth was some beautiful, spiritual moment? It was that, if only in the time afterword, in her opinion, limited though that was, when the child was alive and well, if the child was alive and well. She could barely remember much of Theowen’s birth beyond how much it hurt, squatting and pulling on the lengths of fabric tied to the foot posts of the bed to give her something to hold on to.</p><p>There was something that she found foolish in his request, and she settled back under the covers against the chilly night, nestling against Eomer’s shoulder.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“What do you think?” Lothiriel asked, having put Eomer’s strange wish to Waerhild who looked as perplexed as Lothiriel still felt by it.</p><p>“I would tell him no, if he is willing to accept a denial,” Waerhild paused, looking away, thinking further, “It is sweet that he wants to be present, but does he imagine he will be much help?”</p><p>“I cannot think that help he would be, in truth,” Lothiriel admitted, “but I think more over he thinks that he will be a calming influence.”</p><p>Waerhild gave her a look, trying not to laugh, “The poor man.”</p><p>Lothiriel quirked a brow as she looked back to the mending work, she was putting to one of Theowen’s little dresses, a murmur of agreement in her throat, “I do not know how to tell him that he is being a fool without hurting his pride.”</p><p>“Well, at least your husband is affectionate, and he loves your child, and is excited for another.”</p><p>“Because we need a son,” Lothiriel said teasingly, both women knowing full well that was no the case.</p><p>“Do you?”</p><p>“Rohan needs an heir.”</p><p>“Perhaps we might have a Queen,” Waerhild looked a little amused with herself.</p><p>“In truth, I am concerned that if this child is not a son, there will be another call for my removal,” Lothiriel said in a quiet voice, her gaze going back to her friend.</p><p>“They have been silent for over a year now,” Waerhild said, reassuringly, “I am certain those blackguards have gone back to their miserable lives, or else have found something else to rail against.”</p><p>“I know, but I still worry that they will rear their ugly heads again,” Lothiriel went on, “They never did withdraw their petition, after that man went back to his people, he was meant to tell us their decision, but,” she waved a hand, “nothing.”</p><p>“And you think they are waiting to see if you will give them some other reason to complain of you?”</p><p>“I may risk being an alarmist, but it might be better to be prepared. Though I am not sure what else I can say or do,” she was concerned that they would lead some revolt, since they never really had known how many they numbered.</p><p>She had already voiced this concern to Eomer who had replied in the most Eomer way, by assuring her that it would not come to that and if it did, he would go and handle it. The inference was that he would still gladly go to war for love of her, which was equal parts comforting, and the least comforting thing that he could have possibly said.</p><p>“Is that your only concern?” Waerhild asked, “I mean,” she gestured somewhat vaguely.</p><p>“I am not nearly as afraid as I was with Theowen, as I know for the most part what to expect now, and I know that I can give birth.”</p><p>“You say that as if that is some simple thing!”</p><p>“I need to simplify things so far as I am able!” Lothiriel giggled.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>She sorted through her letters at the breakfast table on an early February, a little concerned by the thickness of a piece of correspondence from her father, and broke the seal, and unfolded it, casting a quick smiling glance at Eomer doing his best to feed Theowen her porridge. She read over the pages her brow raised at the lengthy letter. Her father had written a few weeks before, and if there was so much news already, it was either good or every bad. There were veiled allusions to Gadrien’s pregnancy, and a small current of irritation between she and Elphir as it sounded as if he had been out in the city late at night. Lothiriel took a deep exasperated breath and let it out, reminding herself to write to Gadrien, this clearly being the purpose of Imrahil writing about it at all.</p><p>“Everything alright?” Eomer asked.</p><p>She murmured an affirmation, not wanting to get into a conversation with her husband over her brother’s honoring his vows, or not. She was happy that her own husband was dedicated to her, and loved her to absolute distraction, knowing full well that she would not handle such an embarrassment as that. How could she write to Gadrien and offer her any consolation? Perhaps she should also ask Eowyn what her opinion was of the situation.</p><p>Reading on, she was as ever amused by the long-winded way that her father needed to tell her about the most mundane family news right up to the end of the letter where he laid out a piece of information that clearly should have had much more detail. She gasped, “Erchirion is to be wed.”</p><p>“What?” Eomer’s brows rose, his mind taking a moment to process what she was saying, “Congratulations, when?”</p><p>“Next month, it seems,” Lothiriel flipped through the rest of the letters, finally finding one from Erchirion on the bottom of the little stack, and tore into it quickly, her eyes scanning over it, “That absolute git!” She snapped, looking up from the letter.</p><p>“What?” Eomer asked, becoming more and more irritated by Lothiriel’s exclamations, and lack of any information, leading to him needing to ask yet again.</p><p>“He is marrying Lady Caranorien,” her nose curled in disgust.</p><p>“And this is… bad?”</p><p>“We were at school together,” she said, looking back at the letter, hoping she had been wrong, “’I am certain that you will remember my dear betrothed from your time together attending your studies.’ She dipped my hair in ink and ruined the back of my dress!”</p><p>Eomer smiled, “How old were you?”</p><p>“Twelve,” she shot him a look, that made it clear without words that he was to hate this lady as much as she did, being bound to her by marriage, and that he would have a miserable life if he did not assent to their shared feud.</p><p>Eomer faltered a moment, trying to decide if there was any way out of this situation, “Are we going to the wedding?”</p><p>“I can travel, if the roads will allow it,” Lothiriel said, a sudden relish in her voice, “I would not miss an opportunity to show Caranorien up for anything in the world!” She stood quickly, her hand under her growing belly.</p><p>“Huzzah,” Eomer said with no excitement in his voice, rather a slow anxiety over whatever deviousness his wife was planning. Her plan for travel seemed like a bad one, at least if she were to ride a horse to Dol Amroth, but was there a polite way to tell her so? An idea struck him, “Perhaps we might bring Theowen with us.”</p><p>“Of course!” Lothiriel called from the dressing room, trying to find a gown that would fit her in a month and that would stun her schoolyard bully.</p><p>“Well, she is still too young to ride a horse,” Eomer said, “and we would need to bring Mistress Gleolith… how would we manage that?”</p><p>Lothiriel thought a moment, and came back out into the sitting room, a thoughtful look on her face, “Well, we could take a carriage.”</p><p>He solemnly swore that he would tell her someday that he had led her to that idea, hoping that she might be proud of him for figuring it out, “I never would have thought of that!” He smiled.</p><p>Lothiriel shot him a look, seeing through his ploy easily, and saying nothing but settling on his knee for a moment and giving him a kiss, “we still need to work on your deception face, my love.”</p><p>“Do we?” he asked, pinching her hip, teasingly.</p><p>A handful of porridge landed on Eomer’s chest, and they both looked at Theowen’s face, her hands sticky with her breakfast, “uh-oh…” she said, as if this had been some unforeseen disaster beyond anyone’s control as she turned her little head back to look around, seeking out the source of this mealy projectile.</p><p>Eomer nodded, watching as Lothiriel took a napkin from the table and carefully wiped the mess up.</p><p>“You will need to change.”</p><p>“Of course not, I shall wear this mark of battle with pride,” he retorted with false bravado, gently helping his wife up from his lap, and bent to pluck Theowen from her chair and bounced her, “Our daughter has your aim, love.” He kissed the top of her head.</p><p>“Indeed, but you do not truly mean to wear a dirty tunic all day?” Lothiriel asked, wiping Theowen’s sticky hands.</p><p>“I will do as I please, for I am King of these lands!”</p><p>She shook her head, taking their daughter from him, and set her on her feet, wiping the little face, “Well, I am to get to my ladies, and Her Highness has a play date with some of her friends.” Mistress Gleolith had offered to watch any of the lady’s other children should they wish, at no extra charge to let them play out of doors, which had been a saving grace. “I will get this little princess dressed and let her start her day.” She gave him another kiss, walking Theowen along by her hand, “Say good day!”</p><p>“Gudae, Papa!” Theowen chirped.</p><p>“Fine, I will change my tunic, but not due to your asking,” Eomer took Theowen’s other hand, and stooped for her to kiss his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>0x0x0</p><p>The feast to welcome the wedding guests was not as ornate as Lothiriel had thought it would have been, nor was the she-devil as evil as expected, though Eomer quietly held his tongue waiting for Lothiriel to make a statement one way or the other before saying anything. Caranorien seemed to be accepted into the family with little hesitation by anyone at all and seemed to Eomer to be a nice enough lady, who seemed to try a little too hard to be amusing, but Erchirion seemed genuinely happy, and looked a little healthier.</p><p>“She has been such a help with the children,” Gadrien cooed, smiling, smoothing a hand over her large belly, “We had to let our governess go, I am afraid to say.”</p><p>“Oh no, why?” Eomer asked, before catching Eowyn’s look far too late to retract his question in any polite way.</p><p>“It was a poor fit,” Lothiriel said, looking to Gadrien as if checking that she had heard correctly, or if it was something she had been told and could not quite remember.</p><p>“She was rather too familiar,” Gadrien smiled a little too hard, her fingers digging into Elphir’s forearm, “did you not find?”</p><p>“Indeed,” Elphir agreed, not meeting his wife’s eye.</p><p>Eomer could not think of anything that he would take in exchange for the violent tension between the prince and his wife. His hand covered Lothiriel’s, concerned that there would be blood drawn at some point during their stay here. There was certainly a polite way to excuse oneself from an uncomfortable situation, he had seen Lothiriel do it countless times, but she currently was engaged in conversation with Eowyn over the children. He could do this. He had been trained by his wife’s gentle countenance to handle social pressure with grace and finesse. As he reminded himself of these things and was endeavoring to assure himself that he could handle a diplomatic exit, he realized that he had simply walked away without saying anything to anyone.</p><p>Lothiriel watched her husband’s retreating form with amusement, having been married too long to find his behavior at all strange. “I need to sit a spell,” she said with a smile, accepting Eowyn’s offered help to lower herself into a seat away from her brother and his wife, refilling their cups with small ale, “Now, tell me everything that you know.”</p><p>“There is not much to tell, I fear,” Eowyn said in a low voice, resting a forearm on the table, “we all knew that Elphir had taken up some affair or other, but Faramir thought he had started seeing some actress, being his habit.”</p><p>Lothiriel raised a brow, whispering, “But the governess? What on earth was he thinking?”</p><p>“I suppose it was convenient,” Eowyn shrugged, clearly embarrassed at the entire situation, as well as having to be the one to tell, “I should have written you, but Gadrien seemed assured that you would have understood what her concerns were, and we did not even know who…” Eowyn’s pale hand waved obscurely, “It does not seem like something that would actually happen, rather as if it were something that would whispered as rumor and proven false.”</p><p>“How is she holding up?”</p><p>“She has passed through crying about it, and now she is,” Eowyn looked back at the couple.</p><p>Lothiriel followed the gaze to the death grip on Elphir’s arm, and she winced, “I do not know what help my lord father imagined I would give here.”</p><p>“There is nothing to done for it that has not been done by anyone in the family,” Eowyn said. There was the sympathy in her face that is only ever seen in people that are certain such misfortunes will never befall them. Both women were happy in their marriages and were completely unsure what either of them would do if they ever found themselves in such a position.</p><p>“At least my governess is an older woman,” Lothiriel teased.</p><p>“In truth, I have already told Faramir to keep an eye on my brother to ensure he does not say anything to Elphir,” Eowyn said, “I am certain that Eomer wants to give your brother a talking to.”</p><p>“He has already been advised to not do so, and I think that exchange was enough that he might certainly want to avoid either of them for the rest of the trip,” Lothiriel laughed.</p><p>Eowyn rolled her eyes, a smile sliding over her face, “At least he is not changed in that regard. Once when he was in his youth, he made some awkward faux pas and felt so embarrassed that we did not see him for three days.”</p><p>“What was it?”</p><p>“I do not recall, I think he made a joke to a girl he liked, I think it was the first girl he liked actually now that I think on it, and she did not laugh.”</p><p>“Where was he, then?”</p><p>“He took his horse and rode away to camp until he was certain no one would remember,” Eowyn giggled, shaking her head.</p><p>“Poor boy,” Lothiriel loved hearing stories about her husband, the more embarrassing the better, though she did feel a little wicked, “I bet she regrets it now.”</p><p>Eowyn looked thoughtful for a moment before she said, “She is a little older than him and only had eyes for Theodred.” There was a little sadness in the smile, in the remembering.</p><p>Lothiriel understood that sadness and wondered if anyone in the family would ever talk about Boromir again, if they would laugh at the memories of him. She would tell her children of him, she knew she would, even if she would leave out the engagement that never really was, for she was not certain that she wanted her children to know anything about her uncle at all beside the history of him. Perhaps the entirety of her connection to that man would be lost to record. No one would ever need to know that sometimes Denethor drank too much and that his niece would hide, having been born with a little too much of a resemblance to his late wife. She was certain he would not be remembered fondly without her needing to add her own grievances. She confessed those only to her husband, and he had been understanding, though she had noted the quick lighting of his temper.</p><p>She looked around for a moment, wondering where her husband had gotten to, and found him in deep conversation with Faramir. It was likely that their husbands were having a conversation similar to their own. Lothiriel knew she would have to speak with Elphir and Gadrien at some point, and she knew that she only had a few weeks in which to do so. She wondered if they would come to Rohan, or if they would beg off, claiming that the newborn made travel difficult. Perhaps they could suggest sending the older children with Faramir and Eowyn.</p><p>Her eyes picked out Erchirion and Caranorien, beamingly speaking to some guests from her side, and she narrowed her eyes a little at the chestnut head, “How do you find my brother’s wife-to-be?”</p><p>“Kind enough, though she seems nervous, and wants too much to make a good impression,” Eowyn said, her gaze following Lothiriel’s as she took a drink of ale, “Your aunt does not like her at all, which is good for Gadrien. It moves her up a step in Ivriniel’s esteem, and she could use that at present.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Lothiriel said, wondering if in forty years they would be sitting at their grandchildren’s weddings, judging every soul that passed them with disdain and wit.</p><p>“Eomer warned me that you did not like Caranorien.”</p><p>“Simply put, I am pleased to not be able to be a bridesmaid, due to my delicate condition.”</p><p>Eowyn smirked, “always remember that it could be worse.”</p><p>“This will put an end to his singing career.”</p><p>“Oh, no, she quite approves of it, and even sneaks out with him.”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>“I swear it. She even takes a lute to play his accompaniment.”</p><p>“You mean to dispel my hatred of her.”</p><p>“Only with truth,” Eowyn assured her, “Your father gave them both such a scolding over it when he found out.”</p><p>“And what did she say?”</p><p>“Nothing from what I could hear, but she looked ready to cry when she came out of his offices,” Eowyn smiled, “We were visiting when it happened, and you should have seen Amrothos and Faramir stooping by the door like children.”</p><p>“I am certain you did not do so?”</p><p>Eowyn’s spritely face lit in a mischievous smirk, “Of course not. Princesses do not listen at keyholes like chambermaids! And they certainly do not trip over their husbands trying to get out of the way when they hear footsteps approaching that very same door.”</p><p>Lothiriel broke into laughter so hard that her chest hurt at the image.</p><p>“Laugh not at my expense! There was a panic and Faramir scooped me up and ran, Amrothos doing his best to catch up so we would not be seen.”</p><p>“You cannot expect me to be told something so absurd and not laugh.”</p><p>“I can!” Eowyn’s harsh tone was undercut by her smile, “Oh, I have missed you, sister.”</p><p>“I know, I wish we saw more of each other.”</p><p>They clasped at each other’s hands and fell into the comfortable bantering conversation that ever seemed to come from them being together for more than a few minutes, seeming to forget that there were other people that they were meant to speak to at some point.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>The wedding had gone well, and the guests had left within days, and as seemed to be the habit of these family gatherings, everyone stayed on a little longer that needed, and enjoyed the warmer weather of the southern coast in the palace garden, this including King Elessar and Queen Arwen. Lothiriel, against her better judgement, found herself softening to Caranorien, but lived with the silent fear only known to married people that might at any moment look over and see a spouse giving the look of “See, I told you they were not so bad as all that.”</p><p>Erchirion watched Eomer like a hawk, “Now, I know that my dear sister is with child again, but please do recall that I am newly married, and have no wish to live up to your example.”</p><p>“Darling, I am chilly,” Lothiriel teased.</p><p>“I know for certain that I can carry at least seven blankets, should you wish for options,” Eomer called back from where he was watching the children, Theowen being for a moment tired from the exhurtion of playing, sat on his shoulders, her chin resting on the top of his head.</p><p>“Only seven?” she rested a hand against her brow, “clearly I have fallen from your regard. How shall I live? Such long wretched years stretch ahead of me as I live with my only mildly ridiculous count of blankets!” She let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to faint against Eowyn’s shoulder.</p><p>“Thank Valar you both found each other, for I can hardly think of any other soul that would tolerate you,” Elphir said, doing his best to be jolly, though there were shadows under his eyes, and a slump to his shoulders that he struggled to fight off as he stood by his wife. He reached a moment to rest his hand on the back of the bench by her shoulder, hesitating before doing so as if fearing he would lose that hand.</p><p>Amrothos sat on the grass, gasping for air having taken his turn at played with the children, wondering if he was indeed growing too old to manage it. He was fit for battle, but not for playdates. He shot Erchirion a look, “Now our dear lady aunt has decided that she will indeed try to get me settled, and I have no more siblings to throw at her ambitions.”</p><p>There was a quick look passed adult to adult as everyone waited for one of them to praise the institution of marriage, and Lothiriel bit back a laugh as Eomer, having days before decided that he would not be of any help to stave off the awkwardness that radiated from Elphir and Gadrien began to spin in circles, making Theowen scream with laughter and order him to resume every time he stopped to get his bearings.</p><p>Caranorien passed Amrothos the wineskin, “I have no complaints thus far.”</p><p>Lothiriel was not paying much attention, watching Eomer hoping that he would not stumble and fall while holding their daughter so high off of the ground, but was brought back to the conversation when Mithriel asked, “What is a slut?”</p><p>There was a round of laughter, and it seemed that Amrothos had made some joke, not hearing his niece come up behind him.</p><p>“It is a not very nice name to call someone,” she offered quickly, “so you should not say it.”</p><p>“Oh, alright,” Mithriel nodded and ran back to play with the other children.</p><p>They all knew that it was coming, and so no one said a word, having decided to wait to see if the assumption was valid. After a few moments with no exclamation from Mithriel, they resumed their idle chatter.</p><p>Eomer set Theowen on the ground and cut a hasty retreat before any of the other children could ask him to repeat the task and sat next to Amrothos on the grass a moment, looking a little green.</p><p>“Are you well, my lord?” Lothiriel asked.</p><p>“Perfectly well, thank you,” he lay down, his hands over his face, groaning at the nausea wracking his body, “remind me never to do that again.”</p><p>“I give it five minutes before Theowen demands you resume it,” Arwen said, her dulcet voice delightful even in its teasing.</p><p>“I beg you not to lay such a curse on him,” Lothiriel giggled, “for he will feel the need to oblige our tiny despot.”</p><p>“She is a marvelous leader, and we speak no ill of her,” Eomer groaned out.</p><p>Lothiriel nudged his foot with her own, looking back to the children to ensure that they were not playing too roughly, since Alphros and Mithriel were older than the rest of the children and she was a little nervous that they would not remember to be gentle. Prince Eldarion looked to be speaking to Theowen, looking a little shy. Lothiriel nudged Eomer’s foot again, trying to get his attention, at the adorable situation that seemed to be unfolding.</p><p>“Should we arrange a marriage?” Elessar asked, clearly teasing at Eomer as he sat up, watching Eldarion reached out and hugged Theowen.</p><p>Theowen for her part, having decided that she had no interest in this embrace shoved Eldarion to the ground, wobbling a little and staring at him in eerie silence.</p><p>“Theowen!” Eomer called, standing up, gesturing her over, and crouching down in front of her, “What are you doing?”</p><p>Theowen’s lip jutted out.</p><p>“What are you doing? You need to plant your feet to put more force into a shove,” Eomer said, looking at her.</p><p>“Is that the lesson we are going to give from a shoving?” Lothiriel asked.</p><p>“Absolutely!” Eomer said, as if suddenly remembering that they were not at home, his voice raised a little, “I mean, be nice to the other children.” He lowered his voice, “I am very proud of you, we will work on this later.”</p><p>Arwen laughed, “Eldarion, come here!” she picked her fussing son up, soothing him, “We have talked about hugging people that do not want hugs, dear.”</p><p>Mithriel charged after him, “That is my cousin, you slut!” She looked around for the approval of the adults.</p><p>Elphir and Gadrien looked like they would like to crawl into separate holes in the ground and die of embarrassment.</p><p>Elessar hid his face behind his hand, doing his best not to join in the laughter of every grown person in the cluster.</p><p>“Slut,” Theowen repeated.</p><p>“Oh, no. Theowen, that is a bad word!” Lothiriel said, doing her best to remain stern, shooting a look at Eomer for reinforcement on this point.</p><p>“Yes, very bad word. We do not say that,” Eomer agreed carefully not looking at Theowen.</p><p>“Shit,” Theowen said, looking dismayed.</p><p>“I did not teach her that,” Eomer said, a little too quickly.</p><p>“This is the greatest day of my life,” Erchirion said, wonder dripping into his voice as the gaggle of toddlers all started calling out their own additions, each repeating word that they likely were not supposed to be saying, and somehow knowing that those words were bad.</p><p>“Should your wedding not be the greatest day of your life?” Eowyn asked.</p><p>“No, I agree, this is amazing,” Caranorien said, astonished, her pretty face shining with glee, “I can hardly believe this is happening.”</p><p>“Look at what you did,” Eomer said, looking at Theowen with a small glimmer of admiration, “you have created chaos.”</p><p>“This is the future of our lands,” Elessar said, biting back his smile, attempting to look regal through his amusement.</p><p>“Do you think they will tire themselves out anytime soon?” Faramir asked, watching Elboron with a sense of anxiety that made the rest of the group realize that he had said nothing yet, just wandering around with a smile on his face.</p><p>The pressure was on, he would either repeat something already said, as the options were in fact running low, or say nothing.</p><p>“I bet two silver pieces he says something absolutely amazing,” Amrothos said, springing to his feet.</p><p>“No, our son is rather quiet,” Faramir said, hopefully.</p><p>“Is that a counter?”</p><p>They could see the sweat beading on Faramir’s brow, “Yes?”</p><p>“I know his mother,” Eomer said, “I back Amrothos.”</p><p>Eowyn swatted at her brother, irritably.</p><p>Elboron looked around and took a deep breath, every grown person leaning forward to varying degrees, waiting for what he would say.</p><p>“Dung!” Elboron called out, looking pleased to be included in the anarchy, grinning and looking around his peers.</p><p>Eomer and Amrothos deflated in their defeat and counted out a few coins to Faramir, who looked anxiously assured.</p><p>“Now, we will have to convince them all not to use such language again,” Lothiriel said, trying to compose herself.</p><p>“Or…” Eomer began.</p><p>“We are not training our daughter to swear at your council.”</p><p>“It would be amusing,” Eomer said, his voice reflecting his disappointment.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eomer had never been fond of staying in his wife’s homelands, but found that having given the Prince a grandchild, and having another on the way did seem to soften the way that the society of that place acted toward him. He considered that perhaps their haughty distance from him in the early days of their relationship had been borne of some assumption that he would not be a kind husband. He wondered if they thought that he had wished to abduct their princess and ride away with her like some stolen treasure, which he could in hindsight admit to himself had occurred to him. The trouble with that was that it would hardly have been an abduction as Lothiriel would have gone with him more than willingly. It would have been more of an elopement, which Eomer was certain would have somehow been seen as worse.</p><p>It seemed to have done a great deal for his personal reputation in Gondor that Lothiriel was clearly so outwardly happy, and that their daughter was adorable, and very clearly chericed.</p><p>Being married made small displays of affection between Eomer and Lothiriel acceptable, even if neither was currently sure how much of their love they should show, feeling certain that it would only seem as if they were flaunting their happiness in front of Elphir and Gadrien.</p><p>This sense of hesitation was not shared by Erchirion and Caranorien who, being newly married were even more willing to display their happiness than even Eomer and Lothiriel thought they had been.</p><p>“Do you think they will reconcile?” Eomer asked, making his preparations for bed. He had, as ever asked this question with no preface, assured that Lothiriel would as ever know that his wife would know who it was that he referred to. He was just happy that there had not been a round of screaming from Gadrien’s room as there had been the last few nights.</p><p>“In truth?” Lothiriel asked, climbing under the soft covers of the bed that before her marriage had been hers. Her bed chambers in Dol Amroth were a little smaller than the one she shared with Eomer in Rohan, made of cold stone, the walls covered with tapestries in light blues and yellows.</p><p>“No, I would have you give me reassuring falsehoods, for my concern of your brother’s marriage is such that I can no live knowing there will be unhappiness,” Eomer shot her a smirking look.</p><p>She gave him a slow smile, knowing that for his act of indifference, would rather be given such words as he seemed to decry, “I can hardly guess. In truth I am surprised that Gadrien is so upset as this, or rather I would have been years ago. She ever seemed so have a constant sense of nonchalance. But I suppose while she might suffer mistress’ as a mild irritation of her status, I think that Elphir carrying on with a member of their household has done more damage that he would have done if he had met with some woman in the city.”</p><p>Her husband rounded again from washing his face, for a moment not drying his skin in his stupefaction at the logic of this ‘higher culture’, “The offense should be seen as given without regard for the partner in it. And besides the point, they have another child. Should that no after a fashion bring them back together?” In truth, they had only seen the infant Gladhron for a few moments when he was out of the nursery.</p><p>“I agree, but you asked for my thoughts,” Lothiriel bent her knees up under the covers as best she could manage with their, her forearms resting on them as she thought, “Ada wants me to speak with her and see if I might offer some balm over the fracture, but I find myself ill equipped for it. How can I advise Gadrien to make peace with my brother when every member of this family knows that should I find myself in the same position…”</p><p>Eomer, emerging from the drying cloth, raised a brow, intrigued by the thought that she left unfinished, staring at her.</p><p>“They would never find all of you,” Lothiriel said, doing her best to look intimidating, from her very comfortable place in bed.</p><p>He smiled, “Of course, I would expect no less.” He climbed into bed next to her, smoothing a hand over her belly, feeling the fluttering movements in her womb, “Are you hungry at all? You have not woken me since we came here.”</p><p>“I planned ahead,” She leaned over and opened a drawer in the bedside table, displaying a hoard of apples and grapes.</p><p>“Why do you not do this at home?” Eomer asked, as if this was a major grievance, and that being made to leave his bed in the middle of the night was an offence that he would never forgive.</p><p>“I have not wanted to risk you being lost in the palace trying to find the kitchen,” Lothiriel giggled, “but if I am honest, this is barely enough.”</p><p>“The midwife said that you ought not take too much sweet foods,” he almost scolded her.</p><p>“Yes, I know, but it is only while we are here,” she closed the little drawer and nestled back under the covers, adjusting the pillow she had been putting under her hips to alleviate some of the discomfort as Eomer recounted their day to their baby.</p><p>“Do you think it will be a girl?” Eomer asked, looking back at his wife a moment.</p><p>She hesitated, not wanting to say either way what her wish was for the child, if it was a girl, she knew it would be a disappointment. She needed to give Rohan a son and heir, and she had assumed that Eomer shared her awareness of this need. Now she saw a strange glint in his eyes, and realized that having had a daughter, and loving her, and that little princess being possibly one of the fiercest brawlers of her generation already, that her husband very well seemed to want a band of warrior daughters, as ever forgetting that there was an obligations laid on them.</p><p>“I can hardly say,” Lothiriel smiled, “I have heard women say that a mother knows what the babe will be, but I have not experienced such foresight.”</p><p>Eomer looked back at her belly, “I feel a sense of regret that your body must suffer to give us our children. I want a large family, and have ever wanted one, but I have a fear of the pain that would put you through.”</p><p>She raked her fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp as if to assuage this fear. She of course shared it, but she had long ago recognized that this would be a part of her life. It was her place as a noble woman to birth children for whatever lord married her. But she had been blessed in that she loved her husband and that he loved her, making this duty less terrible, “It is alright, love. It is a little pain for a greater joy.”</p><p>There was a gravity in the look he gave her, sitting up quietly and settled back on the pillows, his arm sliding behind her shoulders as Lothiriel rested her head on his shoulder as well as she could manage it. “Is your family scandalized that we share a room?” Eomer asked, smoothing the back of his fingers against a temple.</p><p>“I think my family, more likely my father and aunt, have given up thinking anything we do is odd, anymore,” she tilted her chin, looking at him, her lips curving in a soft smile.</p><p>He bent his head a little awkwardly to kiss her, bumping his nose against hers before withdrawing at the sound of a small slapping hand on the door. Eomer stood, letting out an irritable breath, having gotten himself comfortable, and not wanting to be moved, but knowing full well what this disturbance was. He opened the door with a smile, stooping to pick Theowen up from where she stood, Mistress Gleolith hovering behind in her dressing gown, a quick look of apology on her face that Eomer had done everything in his power to banish to little effect.</p><p>Theowen had every night that they had been in Dol Amroth gotten out of her bed after a few hours of sleep, wanting her parents. There was nothing dangerous in her grandfather’s house, but she did not know the room in which she slept. Being only two years old, her imagination made monsters of the shadows in the unfamiliar room. Eomer felt a measure of pride that his daughter fussed a little but did not cry at her night terrors.</p><p>Lothiriel pulled back to covers to make a little place between them in the bed, kissing the top of Theowen’s sleepy little head as she nestled against the pillow. A tiny fist grasped at her mother’s nightgown as she dozed back to sleep.</p><p>Snuffing out the candle and climbing back into the bed, Eomer moved carefully not wanting to sit on Theowen, or rouse her from sleep. He moved carefully under the covers, looking at his wife and child as Lothiriel hummed softly, smoothing her fingers over Theowen’s golden head. In the moonlight he could see that Theowen had nestled her head against Lothiriel’s chest and hear that sweet downy breath as she fell asleep. He slipped a careful arm over the covers as if meaning to protect his little family from anything that might come in the night to harm them.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“I could kill your husband if you wished it,” Eomer said in a low voice, having had just enough of the golden wine to get himself past the nervous fear of putting his foot in his mouth.</p><p>Gadrien smiled, “I do not, though I thank you for the offer.”</p><p>Eomer looked at her, doing his best to smile sympathetically.</p><p>“You are the only one that seems willing to speak of that trouble at all,” Gadrien went on, sighing a little, “Perhaps I am being hysterical.”</p><p>“I dare say you have acted with more mercy than my wife would have done, if I had acted so unpropitiously as that. I believe Faramir was put to the task of keeping me from giving your husband my thoughts, or my boot.”</p><p>“You are friends.”</p><p>“And that is why I might feel so comfortable as to tell Elphir that he is acting as a fool,” Eomer took another drink.</p><p>“What does Lothiriel say, then?”</p><p>“That if I ever acted so, that they would never find all of me, was the last she said of it.”</p><p>Gadrien turned her grey eyes on him, “You know what I mean, my lord.”</p><p>Eomer thought a moment, debating the correct choice, “I think Imrahil told her to speak with you to do her best to mend the rift in your marriage. It dismayed her for she knew not how she might be expected to work such a trick as that.”</p><p>“Where is she?”</p><p>“Speaking with her brother,” Eomer shrugged, “Marriage is made of compromise, and I told her that I would speak with you, instead.”</p><p>“My poor husband. I might think to pity him,” Gadrien laughed, looking over the family assembled in the sitting room.</p><p>“I cannot claim to offer you any council on this matter,” Eomer said, “but I may offer you comfort, in what ways I may.”</p><p>Gadrien looked at him confused.</p><p>“You have our support, and as you are as a sister to my wife, should you need it, you have my sword, and my spear.”</p><p>“And leave my children without a father?”</p><p>“Perhaps a mild maiming then?”</p><p>The lady shook her head, “We will make amends, we have done so in the past. It only hurts so much to know that I paid for his whore.”</p><p>Eomer refilled her cup, not sure what else he could say. He sympathized, but he did so in his own way, “Have you no friends that you can speak to?”</p><p>“None that I can be certain are not Ivriniel’s spies,” Gadrien all but spat, “She collects secrets and weaknesses the way that other women collect frocks. There is of course a measure of wisdom to it, but she almost seems to have doubled down since Lothiriel left Gondor.”</p><p>“I do not envy you that, I think Lothiriel soused out any such persons in our court, or else learned how to use them to her benefit. She is frightening at times.” Eomer held back his own thoughts on Ivriniel, for he did sympathize with the matronly lady as well, but for reasons that he was certain would not be proper to speak of, beyond the trouble of simply being a woman.</p><p>“We heard a rumor that you agreed to hear the petition of the men that wished her cast out and sent back to us,” Gadrien began, a smirk twining her lips with the evil twist of gossip, “And that she undid her dress front, baring her breast like a pagan queen of old and called them all cowards and challenged them to fight her.”</p><p>Eomer laughed, “If that were true, it would have been far more entertaining.”</p><p>“Then she did not? How disappointing.”</p><p>“She showed this one delegate her ledgers, and my aunt’s ledgers, and my grandmother’s ledgers, and gave a lecture on economics,” Eomer grimaced, “she fed Theowen from her breast, it took so long, but with the modesty of a shawl.”</p><p>Gadrien studied him, “You have been married four years now, and yet you still seem very much in love.”</p><p>“We are.”</p><p>“How do you manage it?”</p><p>Eomer pondered the point, for it did not seem very difficult. Even when they bickered, they came back together rather quickly. “I suppose we make the decision to care for each other, and to give each other affection in some form every day.”</p><p>“That sounds tiring.”</p><p>“I help her undo her hair, or bring her flowers, and she helps me with with my papers,” Eomer said, recognizing the truth of his words as they came, “and I think I might speak beyond what may be appropriate, by your leave.”</p><p>“You have it,” Gadrien gave him a look of concern.</p><p>“I did have a moment of concern when I came back to Edoras, after the sweating sickness, and Lothiriel… I thought that either she had spoken freely with her ladies, or else had sought some company in my absence.”</p><p>His sister-by-law stared at him, her eyes wide, “But she would never…”</p><p>“And she had not, and I must admit that when she showed me that book, I felt ashamed that she thought it should be a secret.”</p><p>“I bid her not to tell,” Gadrien almost sounded angry that he knew.</p><p>“I should think by now you would know neither of us can keep a thing secret from the other,” Eomer did his best to look apologetic, but he found the very idea that women needed to pass such knowledge between each other in secrecy a foolish concept of a repressed society. He would have thought it more natural in Lothiriel, not having a mother, and being innocent to such things upon marrying him, but Gadrien had kin, alike in age to her.</p><p>He looked again, to ensure that Theowen was not causing trouble, but she was behaving well, Saeburh’s little head on her knee as she looked around the room at the other children. Perhaps she was a little too much like him, but Eomer was far from minding it.</p><p>“Just be sure not to tell anyone else,” Gadrien said in a low voice.</p><p>Eomer looked back to her and felt her shame and felt all the more a fool for having said anything, “I would not, but you misunderstand me, for I mean to thank you.”</p><p>She shot him a surprised look, “Well, then you are welcome.”</p><p>He wondered if he had at least succeeded in taking her mind from her troubles, but drank some more of the wine, “I fear I have said too much, as I am ever given to do when I am uncomfortable.”</p><p>“Are you still so afraid of us all?”</p><p>“Only a little, it is more that I feel still out of place. I am too direct of speech and manner for Gondor. Even having my wife to show me the ways of courtly society, I still feel as though I am a soldier, and that I have stumbled into some place that is beyond my station.”</p><p>“And yet you still come south?”</p><p>“Of course. We are family,” Eomer said, looking back at her, “and I should not think to deprive my own family of knowing their kin for my discomfort.”</p><p>“If I may speak as directly as you do, I think you do us all good,” Gadrien smiled, “and I am happy that Lothiriel found you. I know Elphir is. She came back from Rohan, during the war, as if she was in truth herself for the first time in years.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“She found her place in life, entirely by chance, as did your lady sister, while the rest of us have our places found for us,” Gadrien’s voice had a quiet rage to it, “If you had asked me five years ago, I would not question that it should be so.”</p><p>“Do you regret your marriage?” Eomer asked, as surprised as Gadrien by the question, not thinking he would put the thought to words.</p><p>“How can I regret?” Gadrien smiled sadly at him, “I have my children, and I have a good life. The pain will dull, and things will return to the way they were. I will forgive, for what other choice is there?”</p><p>Eomer could thing of five off the top of his head but knew well enough not to voice them. He smiled, and pressed the lady’s shoulder, “You are a strong woman.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel’s conversation with her brother was much less comforting and gentle.</p><p>“You are a damnable fool,” she spat at him, being unable by midwife’s recommendation to be so far into the wine as every other soul in the family and being all the more irritated for it, “Can you tell me what possessed you, or do I even want to hear it?”</p><p>“This is not your concern,” Elphir said, ready to give her back as much venom, but doing his best to keep his irritation in check.</p><p>“It is when Father and Aunt Ivriniel tell me to offer my aid, as if I was the one that might be of help.”</p><p>“Then do nothing and mind your own marriage.”</p><p>“I need not do so, for my husband is not so foolish and inconsiderate as you have been.”</p><p>“And you know that, do you?” Elphir asked, his words a little slurred.</p><p>Lothiriel turned a look on him so hard that Elphir immediately looked away, “I do, as a matter of fact. He is in my bed every night whether we sleep or otherwise.”</p><p>Elphir groaned, “But you did not see her.”</p><p>“I care little enough,” she smacked the side of her brother’s head, a little too hard.</p><p>He smacked back at her hands, “Lay off me, sister.”</p><p>“No, if you absolutely cannot control yourself, you might at least respect your wife enough to act discreetly,” her hands wailed on him wherever she could get them on him.</p><p>“Why are you speaking to me of this?” Elphir asked, having finally caught her wrists in his hands, concerned through his rage for her unborn child, “Speak with my wife, and make her forgive me.”</p><p>“Eomer is with her,” she said twisting herself free of his grasp.</p><p>Elphir stared at her confused, “I would rather our roles reversed.”</p><p>“I can fetch him if you wish, but you would regret it.”</p><p>“He is a man.” Elphir said as if this would be an explanation of some connection, some understanding between members of their sex that would result in shoulder clasping and laughter.</p><p>“A man of honor and a husband, with a temper that is easily turned on those that do not give the care he feels should be given to their families. You forget brother that I have sat with him through days of petitions and judgements,” she said, landing another shove.</p><p>“Fine then, what do you suggest?”</p><p>“That you pull your head free of your own ass and give your wife the attention she needs. And do not make me come back here to remind you to do so.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer was more than a little proud when Lothiriel came back, her eldest brother looking rather pitiful at her heels, his hair mussed from sloppy blows, knowing that look well enough from seeing siblings scrap. She looked perfectly untouched, hardly a hair out of place, and her smile plastered on her face over the flush of rage still there on her cheeks as she approached. Her smile was a little too hard though, and he wondered what she could do on the field of battle.</p><p>“Mama!” Theowen squirmed from under her puppy and down off the chair that she had occupied. Her little feet pattered over the floor excitedly as she reached her arms out to Lothiriel who picked her up.</p><p>“Hello, my darling,” Lothiriel kissed the top of her head, “Have you been minding everyone?”</p><p>“Yes,” Theowen cuddled close against her mother’s chest, not seeing Lothiriel mouth over her head to Eomer that it was close to bedtime.</p><p>Smiling, Eomer plucked their daughter from his wife, “Are you tired?”</p><p>Theowen let out a low muttering sound of dissent, that by its sounds make it clear that she was in fact ready for sleep.</p><p>“Come now, and save your father from socializing, I beg you?” Eomer asked, beseechingly, smoothing his fingers over the fine dark golden hair, “Let me tuck you in and I will tell you a story.” He waited for her agreement before picking up Saeburh. Lothiriel kissed her cheek and the top of her head and Eomer’s cheek before he went, smiling softly as fathers went to fetch pages to fetch governesses. Gleolith would be sitting in the room for Theowen and would quietly go from the room to let Eomer have the privilege of tucking the little girl into bed.</p><p>“Does he get any actual work done?” Eowyn asked, being the only one that could truly joke about Eomer.</p><p>“Sometimes,” Lothiriel smiled, taking some small ale, and looking over her shoulder. She took Eowyn’s chalice and took the smallest taste of wine before passing it back.</p><p>“And you would give him another child to spoil?”</p><p>“We need a son,” Lothiriel said quietly.</p><p>“Are you concerned?”</p><p>“No, but…”</p><p>“Is he?”</p><p>“I do not think the fact has at all entered his mind, if I am honest.”</p><p>“Then?”</p><p>“I just want it settled. If this child can give even more stability, then all the better.”</p><p>“I should have warned you that Eomer would want daughters,” Eowyn smiled, “He has always liked spirited girls, and between the pair of you, I am certain you will have at least the one.”</p><p>“She can be a handful, but in the best way. How fares Elboron?”</p><p>“He is the perfect child, calm and well-behaved.”</p><p>“We cannot have that!” Lothiriel smirked, “he must clearly come to visit more often, so that he can be made as wild as I have heard it said that his mother was.”</p><p>“Do not dare!” Eowyn laughed, “If he should come visit, it should only be so that I may point at you children and say, ‘do not behave as those savages of Rohan.’” She put on a haughty voice.</p><p>“Well, clearly my daughter is a shield maiden in the making, so…” Lothiriel’s smile was smug, “and I think Eomer means to have her on a pony soon enough, now that she can walk.”</p><p>“Promise me that you will have someone else supervise those lessons.”</p><p>“I will make no such oath, for being a citizen of the Riddermark, I was foreign born, and I can make no alterations therefore to the traditions of the land.” She could of course, as Morwen Steelsheen had done, but she had no desire to make any such changes. She loved her country, even if there were those in it that did not love her. She still smiled a little, knowing that full well that reckless as Eomer still might be from time to time with his own safety, she knew well enough that he was aggressively careful with their daughter.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lothiriel leaned her hip against the window’s sill looking out at the garden, her hand over her belly as she watched her brother walking around the garden with his wife, seeming to speak to each other. There still seemed to be some trepidation between them, and she wondered if they were making amends in their own way.</p><p>Alphros took his aunt’s hand carefully, looking out at his parents. He was a sweet, quiet boy, almost ten now, and she felt a sense of regret that she had missed so much of his life. He was growing into a fine young man and seemed to be the only one that knew what was happening between his parents. She smoothed a hand over his hair. It had darkened from the golden color of his youth to dark brown. He released his hold on her hand and turned back to watch over the other children and Lothiriel smoothed her hand over his hair.</p><p>It was strangely comforting that Mithriel had taken Theowen under her wing, and she was certain there would be a surplus of mischief when Theowen was old enough to manage it, already having become a handful in her own right. Mithriel had Theowen next to her in an armchair, reading to her from a book in Sindarin.</p><p>They had stayed on a little longer than perhaps they should have, she knew, but she was happy to see the children together. It was good for them all.</p><p>She stooped to kiss the top of Theowen’s head, “Mama is going to see your Aunt Eowyn for tea, my darling. Do you want to come see her?”</p><p>Theowen had her thumb in her mouth, her other hand waving a dismissal of her mother, clearly more interested in the fairy story about the princess with a silver hand. The story seemed to Lothiriel a little ghoulish for a child, but Theowen seemed interested enough in the gruesome story.</p><p>Shaking her head, Lothiriel patted Mithriel’s head and thanked her for looking after her little cousin. Mistress Gleolith sat with the other governess, doing mending and speaking in quiet voices as Lothiriel left the nursery rooms, going along to the rooms where Eowyn was staying, feeling a little too comfortable in her old home.</p><p>The first contraction hit her at once, making her double over, crying out.</p><p>It was too soon, the child was not due for almost a month, if she had done the calculation correctly. Something had to be wrong then, either the child was coming too soon, or she had been wrong in her figuring. She did her best to walk, taking deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Perhaps it was a false alarm, she had heard of those, and had in truth thought the same thing when she had gone into labor with Theowen.</p><p>But when the next contraction came on as she stood at Eowyn’s door, she knocked a little harder than she needed.</p><p>Eowyn’s face fell as soon as she saw her, “Are you well?”</p><p>“I am not certain,” Lothiriel admitted, her breath coming out in labored little puffs, “Just let me sit…”</p><p>“What is it?” Eowyn poured her a cup of water, passing it to her friend and sister, her concern clear. She looked pale, even more than she normally did.</p><p>Lothiriel took a drink of water, wincing, “contractions.”</p><p>“Are you certain?” Eowyn’s hand hesitated on Lothiriel’s taut belly, feeling the shifting of the child inside.</p><p>“It feels like it,” Lothiriel squeezed her eyes shut, taking another round of deep breaths.</p><p>“I will have a midwife sent for,” Eowyn said, “we will need to get you ready.”</p><p>“There is little enough that I would think that would be done for making ready,” Lothiriel squeezed at Eowyn’s hand, “save trying to keep your brother from the birthing room.”</p><p>“Dear me,” Eowyn shook her head, “Why on earth would he think that should be a good idea?” She bit her lip at the strangled cry leaving Lothiriel, “I will handle that matter, but for now… can you walk?” It was admittedly selfish, but she wanted to get Lothiriel the short distance to her own bed, if it could be managed.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer paced back and forth in the sitting room, sitting back down for a moment at a time before getting back up. Neither Faramir, nor Imrahil were at all surprised by this behavior, having seen it before. Though in fairness to him, when the word came that Lothiriel had gone into labor, Faramir had taken a running jump and attempted to tackle Eomer.</p><p>Eomer took the force of the attack with little effect, confused and angry at the arms wrapped around his shoulders, “Get off of me,” he said doing his best to get his sister’s husband off of his back.</p><p>“No,” Faramir grumbled, attempting to hold the man from running to the birthing room, “I am doing this for you!”</p><p>Amrothos watched with some amusement, pouring himself a chalice of wine, not taking his eyes off of the sparring men. As he settled back into a chair next to Erchirion who was carefully eating from a bowl of grapes, the pair of brothers enjoying the show a little more than might have been appropriate. They traded their refreshments as Eomer finally squirmed almost free from his attacker and did his best to make it across the room, Faramir holding on, his arms wrapped around Eomer’s legs, trying to slow his advance, eventually tripping over his arms. Amrothos and Erchirion both quietly clapped as if they were at the highest society theatre.</p><p>Eomer shot them both a look, doing little enough to damper their applause.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>When she was finally alone with her baby, Lothiriel settled back against the headboard and the pillows, the child on her chest as she looked down at amber eyes struggling to look back at her. All she could think was that she loved her newborn daughter, even if she was not what would assure the succession of her country, even as she knew there would be grumbling. She was so tired, and she felt as if she could just sleep for a while, everything would be alright. Eoddis’ little mouth worked, gulping air, reminding Lothiriel a little of a fish, and making her mother smile. She looked up, a little startled as Eomer charged the door as if it was an enemy warrior, standing there, panting, clearly having run all the way to this room.</p><p>Lothiriel smiled at him, gesturing him over to her, shifting a little, as uncomfortable as she was to make some room for him to sit by her side. She loved the way that he looked at their children when they were first born, and it took the second child to realize it.</p><p>There was a look of terrified awe on his face as he held his arms out to let Lothiriel settle her in his arms, his hand holding the back of her head, “The entire family wants to come in,” he said in a low voice.</p><p>She let out a tired sigh, “I might let them in here, if only the sooner to get them out.”</p><p>He pressed a kiss to the top of Lothiriel’s sweaty head.</p><p>“I am sorry you were not at the birth,” she said a little wearily.</p><p>“You could have told me no,” he smiled, “I have been wrestling with Faramir.”</p><p>She laughed, “When Eowyn said she would handle it, I thought she would tell you to stay with the children, or something of the sort.”</p><p>There was a quiet knock at the door, and Imrahil opened the door a crack, “Are you able to accept visitors, yet?”</p><p>Theowen did not wait for an answer, tearing free from her grandfather’s hand and leaping up on the bed, and with the carelessness of a toddler, she trampled over the coverlet to look at the baby, “Hello, sister,” she said, her hand grasping at Eomer’s shoulder as she peered down at her little sister’s squished face.</p><p>“Gentle,” Eomer said, with a quiet panic writ over his features as Theowen leaned forward on his arm.<br/>Lothiriel gently helped Theowen sit down between them, smoothing a hand over her back to calm their enthusiastic child. Her father leaned over Eomer’s shoulder to look at the princess, smiling, the rest of the family slowly trickling in, to take their turns of holding the newest addition to the family.</p><p>All that Lothiriel wanted in the world to rest, but she had given birth in Gondor, and this was the way that things were done in that country. She gave Eomer a tired smile, doing her best to stay awake, and not damper anyone else’s mood.</p><p>He stooped and kissed her brow, before ushering everyone from the room as politely as he could manage, shooting her an apologetic look. Theowen nestled beside her mother, still looking at Eoddis with the interest of someone trying to determine if this new person was going to be a risk to her privileged status.</p><p>“I must write back to the council and to have the word put out,” Eomer smiled, smoothing his hand over her dark hair, “Theowen, come. Let your mother rest.”</p><p>“She is quite alright,” Lothiriel smiled up at him, tilting her face back for his kiss, “we will need to find a cradle.”</p><p>“I already have the servants looking,” Eomer assured her.</p><p>They had not brought anything for the child, not thinking she would come so soon as she had. Eomer ran a fingertip carefully over her knuckles as Eoddis fell asleep against her mother’s breath, her shallow little breaths were the only sound she made.</p><p>Lothiriel nudged her husband, to remind him of his duties to their country, knowing full well that he would be content just to sit there and look at his daughters. He gave her a look before leaning carefully over her to kiss Theowen’s cheek.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>The reaction to the birth of a second princess was mixed to say the least. There had been sighs of relief that the Queen had given birth to another healthy child, and that she was herself recovering well, as the majority of the farmers in the Mark saw her as their patroness. On the other hand, the ingrates who did not hold her in so high a regard as that, and who had been quiet for the most part seemed to take new joy in that Lothiriel Queen had not given their King a son, and that she had kept Eomer King in Gondor for so long as they had been there.</p><p>Eomer of course told Lothiriel almost everything he was told by the messengers that had come from Edoras when they came with the papers that needed his approval or rejection. They had taken to reviewing their papers and correspondences in the garden, as the fresh air did Lothiriel’s constitution well.</p><p>He frowned irritably as he reviewed the newest batch of papers on The Situation, as he had taken to calling it, as he had not wanted to give them the benefit of any further thought at all.</p><p>“What is it now?” Lothiriel asked, a little amused, smoothing a hand over the sling holding Eoddis against her chest.</p><p>He cut his eyes back at her a moment, then back at the woodblock image in front of him, “Do you want to know?”</p><p>She held her hand up, her brow quirked at him, wondering how bad it could be to garner that look.</p><p>He still hesitated before handing the parchment over to her, sitting back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>“Well, they have rendered my hair well enough,” she smirked at the image, settling back in her own seat looking at the page in her hand. It appeared to be some caricature done in woodblock printing of her doing something rather naughty with her mouth to the White Tree while grinding a horse’s throat under her heel, a wild tangle of hair framing her distorted features.</p><p>“Please, do not make light of this,” Eomer growled, getting to his feet and snatching the page out of her hand and balling it between his hands, “how dare they even create such a vile thing.”</p><p>Lothiriel took a deep breath and looked away from him to where Gleolith was watching Theowen playing with her cousins. Her daughter was so happy and unaware of anything happening outside of her own world, as it should be. She looked back to her angry husband, “What are you thinking of doing?”</p><p>“Putting heads on pikes is a good enough start to me,” Eomer said, rounding on her, “Putting aside that you are a Queen, and that you have done everything in your power to help the people of our country, putting aside that you have put your health to the brink wellness, you are my wife. Any insult to you, is in turn an insult to me, and to my authority.”</p><p>“I know,” she raised a brow at him, knowing full well that he was doing his best to find a reason that under law he would be allowed to draw and quarter anyone responsible.</p><p>He knelt beside her, and she could see the rage barely contained in him as he looked back at her, “I am going to write back and have someone look into this.”</p><p>“Are you going to put charges on them?”</p><p>“We have tried this your way, my love, and you were right to do your best to make them understand the way of things, with facts, and compassion. But now, we are going to do this my way.”</p><p>She smiled a little, knowing that she should not find his rage as alluring as she did, but then, it was not directed at her. He wanted to protect her honor and their family in the way he knew best, even if she was not certain that it would serve the purpose that he thought it would. In his defense, it had been four years, and they had not calmed their hatred, though it seemed to come and go. She wondered if there was some correlation between the raising of that collective, and something else. The word would have just gotten back to Rohan that she had given birth to a daughter, and perhaps they had stayed too long from home, but that was only because she had given birth, and everyone being concerned for Lothiriel’s health had bidden them to stay on until she was well enough to travel.</p><p>She stroked his cheek, tenderly, and leaned her brow against his, “I tremble for anyone with the woodblock of this.”</p><p>His eyes slid shut, clearly attempting to calm himself, his hand finding her cheek in turn, his thumb smoothing over her skin, his other hand carefully finding the shape of Eoddis’ head under the fabric. He stood a little so he could peek at her, safely nestled against her mother, sleeping peacefully, “She sleeps better than her sister.”</p><p>“So far,” she nudged him, “do not say so, for I think you would curse us both with your certainty, and so turn her to an irritable sleeper.” She looked at the baby, “do you think they would be so hateful if she had been a boy?”</p><p>“Oddly enough, I do not care,” he said, his voice dripping irritability, but as he spoke, his words sounded more and more sad that there were people that could not let him be happy with his family, “She is my daughter, as is Theowen. They are our children, my heirs.”</p><p>“They do both look rather like you, unfortunately,” she teased him.</p><p>He let out a low chuckle, and went back to his seat, looking back over the papers in front of him. He clenched and relaxed a fist on the tabletop as he did his best to focus.</p><p>“I know we will not wholly agree on this point,” Lothiriel said carefully, “but I have come to a point where I no longer care what they say about me, or what they might think to do as far as my name is concerned. But, mark me, if these bastards come at my children, they might do well to fear me as much as they ought to have feared you.”</p><p>He gave her a slow smile, clearly as enamored with her ferocity as she was with his, “Perhaps I might have you train with my men and take you into battle with me.”</p><p>“Perhaps I might do well to take more training in defense, if something were to happen, and you were away…”</p><p>“You want me to give you an Eored?” he raised a brow.</p><p>“No, of course not, but you might give our daughters one.”</p><p>He sat back again, “That might not be a bad idea, actually.”</p><p>“Though, of course I would manage the men for our daughters until such a time that they could be trusted with such responsibility.”</p><p>“You are Queen, my love. You are well within your rights as a monarch to call spears to your defense and use,” Eomer said, the teasing leaving his voice, “you know that?”</p><p>“Of course,” Lothiriel said, thinking a moment, “I am simply doing my best to consider the optics at present.”</p><p>He let out a low growl, “I do not care. This,” he held up the balled-up parchment, “is enough that I will not stand for you not having some manner of protection.”</p><p>She reached out to him, taking her hand in hers, and running her fingertips over the palm of his hand, smiling a little, “When we are home, we will plan, love.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eoddis slept in a cradle that Lothiriel had slept in when she was a baby, if it was a little more ornate than the one that she would have as her own when they returned home. She still slept rather well but wanted to be fed a little more than her sister had, and Lothiriel would get up with minor orneriness to feed her, a feat only made a little more difficult by Theowen who still insisted on sleeping in her parent’s bed. Having lived her entire life with her mother’s almost undivided attention, Theowen was having a difficult period of adjustment at being no longer the only child. This had resulted in Theowen bringing Saeburh with her into the bed, which resulted in the parents giving each other looks of weariness on Lothiriel’s part, and adoring acceptance on Eomer’s. He was such a soft man.</p><p>Their bed in Edoras was at least larger than the one in her room in Dol Amroth, so there would at least be a little more room for all of these bodies there.</p><p>Lothiriel fed Eoddis, trying to keep herself awake as she sat back against the headboard, one of her legs bent up to help support Eoddis’ body, looking at the other members of the family, fast asleep, Theowen nestled against Eomer’s chest. She had awoken with a nightmare and had cried until Eomer gotten out of bed and walked around the room showing her what every single shadow was until she calmed down. He always fell back asleep faster than Lothiriel was able to, and she wanted to hate him a little for it, but any time he held Theowen and fell asleep, it seemed to help her sleep, too.</p><p>She sat up on the edge of the bed carefully, putting a linen over her shoulder and patted Eoddis’ shoulder to burp her before settling her back into her arms. She hummed quietly, rocking her back to sleep. She pressed her lips against Eoddis’ forehead gently, breathing in the smell of her hair and her skin before nestling her back into her cradle. Lothiriel looked over Eoddis to ensure that she was asleep before she lay back in the bed, pulling the covers up over her chest, and tried to get back to sleep.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eothain hovered at the edge of the room with a sense of hesitance that he was far too used to having been a friend of the King for most of their lives, his helm under his arm as he waited for Eomer to realize that he was standing there. It gave him a strange pang to have to pull Eomer away from this break from his life. At this moment, as Eothain watched, Eomer was running around the garden playing a game with the children, looking more relaxed than he had in years, even as he had his niece hanging on his back, her arms around his neck.</p><p>The pale eyes of the Queen saw him first, and her smile fell, her hands tightening a little on the newborn princess in her harness where she sat with Elphir and Gadrien, the pair laughing a little at their daughter’s attack on their brother king. She looked carefully through the hedgerows and found Eomer. She stood as no one noticed and approached him.</p><p>Eothain bowed to his Queen, and to his friend, both knowing that she would be displeased, but that there was nothing that either of them could do to change anything, “Your Majesty.”</p><p>“Sir Eothain,” she smiled sadly, “What is it?”</p><p>He hesitated, “I have come to collect Eomer King,” he said, slowly, “there is some trouble at home, and I would speak with him.”</p><p>“What manner of trouble?”</p><p>Eothain winced, looking back to Eomer.</p><p>“Is it the gits again?” she moved her head a little, doing her best to draw his attention back to her.</p><p>“I am not certain how much you have been told…”</p><p>“Hopefully everything.”</p><p>There was something in Eothain’s face that Lothiriel was not sure how to interpret as she stared at him, “Some of the villagers in the Mark have taken up arms in defense of your honor, and there have been skirmishes through the country, and Eomer should return home to help put these unrests down as far as might be done.”</p><p>She nodded, surprised that anyone had fought for her at all. Turning, she called back, “Eomer, love.”</p><p>Having seemed to have been far too contented in his own world, Eomer had not even noticed that Eothain had been there at all, or that Lothiriel had seen him. He carefully stooped, extricating himself from Mithriel’s grasp, he stooped, speaking to the children a moment, clearly making his excuses before he left them.</p><p>“My friend,” Eomer reached his arm out to Eothain, smiling though his nerves, “I am happy to see you, though perhaps you come with some ill tiding.”</p><p>Eothain still hesitated in his speech, glancing to look at Lothiriel. She wondered what else he was not saying in her presence.</p><p>She smiled, pressing her hand on Eomer’s arm, “I will let you speak. Let me know if there is anything you need.”</p><p>Eomer stooped to kiss her knuckle quickly, squeezing her hand as she went from him.</p><p>She could feel his eyes on her back, nervous and angry at whatever this was that was coming with the news. If there was something so important or so dreadful that they had sent his closest friend, it was something that no one else wanted to risk handling.</p><p>Theowen came running as fast as her short legs could manage, “Papa!” she called, reaching out as she hurried to him.</p><p>Moving as quickly as she dared, Lothiriel intercepted the princess, and stooped down, “Papa has to talk to Uncle Eothain now, my darling girl.”</p><p>“But I want him to come play.”</p><p>“I know, I know,” Lothiriel pulled a leaf from the blonde tangle of her daughter’s hair with careful fingers, “but not right now.”</p><p>“Why?” Theowen asked, letting herself be led along by the hand.</p><p>Lothiriel was not sure how to explain it, especially since she was not certain that she had the information besides. She guided Theowen back over to the other children, watching them all from the side, glancing over to watch what was happening between the men. She could see the tensioning in Eomer’s shoulders as he carefully turned his back toward her, staring away.</p><p>Something was coming, she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. Eoddis’ little crying voice did nothing to calm Lothiriel’s nerves as she did her best to focus on watching the children. Their quiet contentment could not have lasted, and Lothiriel knew that, but she had hoped that at least they would be able to get themselves home before the next trouble could crash over their heads.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eomer held Theowen against his chest, doing his best to assure her that he would come back soon. “And besides, you get to play with your cousins!”</p><p>“Papa, stay,” she sobbed as he set her down, her hands grasping at his leg until her mother pried her arms from Eomer’s leg, and held her on a hip, careful of Eoddis’ little body in the sling, looking at Eomer with sympathy, knowing how hard it was for him to leave his family, especially when his daughter was begging him to stay.</p><p>The Sons of the Mark, as the idiotic ingrates had decided they were to be called, had organized, under a shared hatred of what they claimed was Gondorian Intervention, and an assurance that Lothiriel was part of some plan by King Elessar to take over the Riddermark. Being assured of this had named her an enemy of the state and had put a price on Lothiriel’s head and had begun a rumor that the princesses were not Eomer’s at all. She wondered which of these things had led to the villagers fighting in her name, but she was more than a little pleased by it, having done her best to find a way to repay them.</p><p>Eomer wrapped his arms around Lothiriel and Theowen, pressing a kiss against the top of her golden head, and shifting the fabric away from Eoddis to kiss her, “I love you all so much,” he gave Lothiriel a long look, and kissed her, pressing his brow to hers. He held his family, hoping that he would be able to do so again soon, when they were safe.</p><p>Lothiriel wanted to cry. She wanted to tell him to take the girls back to Edoras and break their marriage off. Even if she knew it wasn’t true, she felt still as if the blame should be laid on her shoulders, and as though she should let go of her own happiness to save them. But to say those words would only have made Eomer all the more ready to fight for her, to be more reckless, and she knew that.</p><p>She would pray for his safety, as she did whenever he was not with her, and she would do her best to keep her spirits up, even as the sight of him riding away with his men made her heart weep. Theowen screamed, fighting to be let go until Lothiriel could not hold her, and was forced to release her. She watched her daughter, running after Eomer and Firefoot, begging him to come back.</p><p>There was nothing that Lothiriel could do but to follow Theowen to where she gripped at the gates, her tiny fists banging at the metal as she watched her father ride away. Lothiriel carefully passed Eoddis to Mistress Gleolith who was as sympathetic as anyone could be as she took the baby, resting her against her chest.</p><p>Theowen screamed, smacking away her mother’s hands as Lothiriel did her best to calm her, and bring her back from the gates of the palace grounds. She clawed and fought against her mother’s arms as she was lifted and carried back to the palace.</p><p>Lothiriel smoothed a hand over Theowen’s heaving back until the princess finally pressed her face into her mother’s shoulder, her cries supplementing Lothiriel’s own pain, and she did her best to walk with her daughter, and to not crumple into herself. Theowen let out loud gasping cries, gripping at the front of her dress, her tears and snot wetting the shoulder of her mother’s dress.</p><p>“I know, my darling,” she murmured, “I know.”</p><p>Usually, when Eomer rode off on patrol, Theowen waved and called out childish blessings, but she somehow knew that this was different. No one had told her what the purpose of Eomer’s leaving was, or what was happening at home, but she seemed to know that something was wrong. She knew that they were facing some danger, that this was not part of their normal routine.</p><p>Hours later, when Theowen fell sleep in her bed, holding one of her dolls with a tight grip, Lothiriel sat watching her daughter sleep. She sat on the floor next to the low bed, smoothing her fingers over the golden curls. She leaned over the sleeping face, puffy from tears, and pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek before leaving the room.</p><p>Eowyn sat in Lothiriel’s room, “I think her highness is hungry,” she said, her voice full of low understanding as she passed the baby over to Lothiriel as she fell into the chaise, wanting everything to stop for a few moments so that she could collect herself, and her own feelings.</p><p>“Thank you,” Lothiriel said, undoing the front of her dress to feed Eoddis, caressing the back of her fingers against the side of her little head.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Eowyn asked, sounding nervous.</p><p>“No,” Lothiriel admitted, “my husband is going to reinforce that I am his wife, and there are men that want to kill me.”</p><p>“Where are they getting the bounty?”</p><p>“I have wondered if there was not some lord that has been giving them support.”</p><p>“What would be the purpose?”</p><p>Lothiriel winced as Eoddis bit her, “Well, I have not always agreed with Eomer’s councilors.”</p><p>Eowyn’s eyes widened at her, “Lothiriel….”</p><p>“I know, but… he asks me what I think, and I tell him so, and sometimes if Eomer is uncertain of something he will wait to give them an answer if he thinks that I might have an answer.” She could not get Lord Fulgar’s bloated face out of her mind.</p><p>“You are queen, and of course you are beyond reproach, but…” Eowyn’s face turned sour, “there are limits to what you should think to do.”</p><p>“I have never publicly done so.”</p><p>“But they know that you would tell Eomer when he ought to disregard their advice?”</p><p>“I have done so sparingly.”</p><p>“Who do you think had acted against you, then?”</p><p>“My guess would be Lord Fulgar,” Lothiriel said for the first time. She had never wanted to put the thought into words, to say it out loud seemed to give it more power, thought there was little enough that she could do now to take any power back. “I should have sent my regrets.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“I should have said that I could not come to the wedding, I should have known that my pregnancy was a risk. If I had stayed in Edoras we would not have been here when Eoddis was born, and we would not have needed to stay, and-”</p><p>“Sister, stop,” Eowyn’s hand grasped hers, drawing her back into herself.</p><p>She had not realized that she was slipping away, into her anxiety, and into the uncertainty of everything that was happening. Her eyes were brimming over with tears, “And Eomer would not be riding off to fight his own people for me. I am hardly worth such unrest as this.”</p><p>Eowyn watched Lothiriel burp her daughter, her pale eyes closed as she seemed to be doing her best to hold her composure in place.</p><p>Lothiriel had always felt that whenever Eomer was not there, that she would need to be strong for their daughters, and to be strong for her country. But now, she was not sure that she would even have a country when this was over. If Eomer had to compromise with the rebels, which is what Lothiriel called them, refusing to call them Sons of the Mark, or of Rohan at all, she might have to accept that she would no longer be married. At least, she knew that she could give Eomer the words to argue that he would keep his daughters in the succession. Her hands trembled a little as she carried Eoddis to her cradle, hoping that she would sleep, because she did not trust herself to hold her in her trembling hands.</p><p>“If someone is attempting to start a coup, or to go against the King in this way,” Eowyn said, carefully, “then I doubt it has much to do with you at all.” It was sweet and idealistic, but she knew that there was some part of her words that sounded a little false.</p><p>“I thought that I had handled this,” Lothiriel admitted, “and I thought that I had done so well, but…”</p><p>Eowyn sighed, “Here is what we are going to do. I have already asked Gadrien if her wet-nurse would object to feeding Eoddis, and you have a governess to watch the children. We are going to get into comfortable clothes, and sit in bed, and drink wine, and we are going to scream at the world until we can no longer do so.”</p><p>Lothiriel laughed through her tears, wrapping her arms around Eowyn, her shoulders rocking a little.</p><p>It was strangely comforting to get into their nightdresses and dressing gowns and sit, and gossip, and Lothiriel honestly was almost happy. Lothiriel, Eowyn, Gadrien and Caranorien sat around the rooms with an attempt casual ease, and it was strange that the wives had all come together simply to make sure that Lothiriel was alright, almost as if they were all concerned to leave her alone. She had honestly expected Caranorien to scoff and make fun, but she had strangely enough been a well-made addition to the family, fitting in so well that Imrahil and Ivriniel both seemed to disapprove, silently in Imrahil’s case, and not so silently in Ivriniel’s.</p><p>“Your brother snores like a pig,” Caranorien laughed, “I cannot imagine how anyone else is able to sleep in the palace.</p><p>“That is the one benefit to stone walls,” Lothiriel smiled, “You can hardly hear anything one room to the next. Perhaps we might use a few such walls in Meduseld.”</p><p>Eowyn swatted Lothiriel’s leg, a gently teasing warning, “That is still my brother, and I have already told you that I do not want to hear any such information!”</p><p>“I was speaking of our crying children, sister,” Lothiriel said, full of mock confusion, her hand over her heart, “I can hardly imagine what else you might have thought.”</p><p>Gadrien scoffed, “and I am certain that Eomer only thanked me for your wedding gift out of courtesy.”</p><p>Lothiriel gaped at her, slapping a pillow, “I told him to keep it secret!”</p><p>“I told you to keep it secret!” Gadrien yelled back.</p><p>“You are both of you ladies terrible at keeping secrets,” Eowyn giggled, “though, dare I ask what the secret is?”</p><p>Lothiriel and Gadrien looked at each other, a little horrified until the broke into laughter.</p><p>The wine pushed her concerns a little out of her sight, but Lothiriel could still feel them hovering just behind her.</p><p>“We need more wine,” Caranorien stood, and went to find a page.</p><p>“I knew that was a match made in debauchery,” Gadrien teased, just loud enough for Caranorien to hear it.</p><p>“I will, as a lady of breeding pretend not to have heard that,” Caranorien giggled as she went through the door.</p><p>“I miss Eomer,” Lothiriel admitted in a low voice, looking into her cup.</p><p>“He will be safe, you know,” Gadrien said, her hand taking up Lothiriel’s, “Though I think that those fools should have thought a little harder about who it was that they were starting such trouble with.”</p><p>“Heads will roll,” Lothiriel said, ominously, “I do wonder if…” she looked between Gadrien and Eowyn, “I am aware that I may be leaping ahead of reason… but I wonder if Theowen has in some part the gift of foresight. She seems to know things sometimes.”</p><p>“Like what?” Eowyn asked.</p><p>“She always called Eoddis her sister, even before the birth, and she seems to know that something is happening.”</p><p>Gadrien smiled slowly, “Like as not, she just wanted another girl in the family, and as to the second… children can understand people without being told things. I know not how, or why, but they know things.”</p><p>The three of them looked up at the door opening as Caranorien returned with bottles of wine in her arms like an intoxicating bouquet. She stopped short, “Should I come back?”</p><p>“No,” Lothiriel smiled, “I am being silly. I thought my daughter had some… precognition.”</p><p>“Theowen?” she asked, setting the bottles down on the table, “She does. She wanted me that I was going to spill wine on myself a few days ago.”</p><p>“Well that proves it,” Gadrien raised a brow at her notoriously clumsy sister-in-law.</p><p>Caranorien made a face at Gadrien before laughing. When she calmed, she looked at Lothiriel, smiling gently, “Thank you.”</p><p>“Whatever for?” Lothiriel asked.</p><p>“For accepting me. I know I was horrid to you, when we were at school. I am sorry for it, but I did not know how to tell you so.”</p><p>For a moment, Lothiriel felt ashamed that she had come south in part to make this woman feel inferior, and to show her up, but there was also a small sense of victory. “It was so long ago,” Lothiriel smiled, “and we have both grown up so much.”</p><p>Caranorien tilted her head a little, smiling, and Lothiriel could feel herself being sized up, but the smile widened. She grinned, and she came to sit beside Lothiriel, hugging her. It was strange how genuine it felt, and how comforting it was. Lothiriel felt herself pressing her face against Caranorien’s shoulder, simply accepting the embrace.</p><p>“Thank you,” Lothiriel smiled, her eyes misting.</p><p>“You know, when Erchirion went to join the army, it almost killed me,” Caranorien admitted, wiping a tear that broke formation, and slid over Lothiriel’s cheek. She saw the confusion on her sisters-in-law’s faces, “We knew each other, and were close, and…” her shoulders shifted a little, “we cared for each other… and we had… known each other…” she blushed a little.</p><p>“No!” Gadrien gasped, smiling.</p><p>Lothiriel yanked a blanket back over her lap, waiting for more information. There had been some love affair, kept secret, and to her, it seemed too wildly romantic to be true.</p><p>“Oh, do not judge me!” Caranorien covered her face with her hands.</p><p>“I slept in Eomer’s bed before we were married,” Lothiriel admitted in a quiet voice.</p><p>“You were drunk, and he slept in his dressing room,” Eowyn pointed out, laughing, “it was hardly as scandalous as you make it sound!”</p><p>“That would be scandal enough,” Gadrien laughed, “Besides, but I doubt that is what she meant. Our dear sister was sneaking off to your brother’s room every night when he was in Minas Tirith.”</p><p>“Ivriniel thought that it was for some sordid reason, but we were only talking,” Lothiriel said, carefully.</p><p>“There was no indiscretion at all, then?” Gadrien quirked a brow at her.</p><p>Lothiriel began to answer, but stopped short, blushing.</p><p>“Eowyn, cover your eyes!” Caranorien called, holding a hand toward her.</p><p>Eowyn rolled her eyes before putting her hands over them, letting out a puffing breath of irritation, being all the more pleased at having no idea what indication of action that Lothiriel was giving to garner such giggling gasps, “Can I take my hands down yet?”</p><p>“Yes,” Lothiriel smiled, settling back.</p><p>“No, I have more inquiries!” Gadrien laughed.</p><p>“Your interest in my husband is noted,” Lothiriel pursed her lips, smirking a little.</p><p>“You so rarely come to visit us, that I have not been able to find a flaw in him yet,” Gadrien argued, “I am certain that if he lived here, I would find some such fault.”</p><p>“I had always heard that Eomer King was…” Caranorien hesitated, trying to find a diplomatic word.</p><p>“Grim?” Eowyn asked.</p><p>“Terrifying?” Lothiriel asked.</p><p>“More likely to punch you in the face than have a civil conversation?” Gadrien supplied.</p><p>Lothiriel shot Gadrien a look, her brows pushed together, though Eowyn’s head wiggled a little in confirmation.</p><p>Caranorien shrugged her shoulders, “He seems more as a large child, truth be told.”</p><p>“And I may attest to that,” Lothiriel smiled, thinking that it would be better not to point out that none of them had ever seen Eomer angry.</p><p>“Your daughters seem as though they take after Eomer,” Eowyn teased, “I do not envy you that.”</p><p>“I am not looking forward to their adolescence,” Lothiriel admitted, “Though I will take the fist fights over whatever trouble Eomer got into.”</p><p>Eowyn looked thoughtful for a moment, “He did also get into fights…”</p><p>“Elbereth save me,” Lothiriel laughed, she ran a hand over her brow, “or else may I have sons, that would be easier to manage.”</p><p>“If your side of the family holds true on that score, it might be,” Gadrien laughed, “My daughter is a wild beast and will not be calmed.”</p><p>“You are more than welcome to send her to us,” Lothiriel smiled, “I think that we will have a family of shield-maidens.”</p><p>Eowyn looked almost wistful, “I pray that they never go to war.”</p><p>“I pray the same,” Lothiriel said, knowing full well what the end of a battle looked like.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>No word came from Eomer.</p><p>Lothiriel did her best not to worry, but how could she not? If she had not taken Gleolith into her employ, she would likely have gone mad from the stress as neither of her daughters seemed to be content to wait quietly. Theowen had always had a strong personality, but the tantrums that she threw those first few days were beyond her normal toddler rages. She smacked at people and threw things and Lothiriel had to leave so that she could regain her composure. At one point, she had locked herself in her dressing room and sat on the floor, crying quietly.</p><p>The first letter came after a few weeks from Lord Almod, who had thankfully thought to send her word of what was happening in Rohan, and without his missives, Lothiriel was certain that she would have barely been able to get out of bed. It was hard enough that her toddler would not stop screaming, or that Eoddis seemed as plagued by colic as Theowen had been, and that she was handling it without her husband, but to have not even known where Eomer was made Theowen’s demands for him even harder.</p><p>She read through the most recent letter, almost a month later, feeling a sense of relief, her hand pressed to her chest.</p><p>“What news?” Ivriniel asked.</p><p>“The leaders have been tried and are awaiting execution for treason,” Lothiriel smiled, “though it would seem that they have not been able to track down Lord Fulgar. It seems that he was stirring up most of the trouble.”</p><p>“Why would he do that?” Eowyn asked, looking up, her brow crinkled.</p><p>“’For that lord being so certain of his own autonomy and self-importance, had taken such an offence at your ability to manage the affairs of governance, thought to take into his hands to retake what authority he felt robbed of,’” Lothiriel read from the letter, feeling equal parts vindicated at her being proven right, but also disappointed that someone that she had trusted had turned against her so hard as that. “What a git.”</p><p>“Lord Fulgar has always been…” Eowyn hesitated, trying to think of a diplomatic word, “strong-willed… but this seems beyond him.”</p><p>“I have perhaps been more willful that he anticipated,” Lothiriel said, settling down to look over the written words again, “His majesty is sending an Eored to collect us and bring us home. They should be here in a few days. I will have Heohild and Gleolith begin getting our things together.”</p><p>“There is no rush,” Ivriniel said, “it has been such a delight to have you here.”</p><p>“I know, but it would do well to return to Edoras, and to ensure that all is well. I cannot be seen to be so afraid of my people that I would stay here when I have been assured that it is perfectly safe to return.”</p><p>There was truth in her words, but she wanted more than anything to get herself back to her own house and her own life. She wanted to sit in her sewing circle with her ladies, and sit at her own table, where she was mistress. She wanted to show Eoddis everything of the home that she would grow up in.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>They had made quick work of packing up their things into the carriage, ready to return home. Lothiriel had helped, folding Eomer’s clothing that he had left behind and packing them away in one of the trunks. When the men came to escort her, she all but ran to embrace them all, so glad was she that the matter had been resolved.</p><p>She did not know the men, and she felt silly that she had thought that she might. Their leader, Guthred seemed a kind enough fellow, bowing respectfully to her and her daughters.</p><p>“Your Majesty, we are honored to escort you home,” he smiled at the Queen, his eyes downcast. He moved to open the carriage door for the women.</p><p>Theowen stared at Guthred, her face screwed up in disgust at him, squeezing her mother’s hand and refusing to move.</p><p>Lothiriel crouched down in front of her, trying to turn Theowen’s face toward her, “My darling, we are going home. Do you not want to see Papa?”</p><p>Theowen made no answer, pulling her face away, and glowering up at the men, and in that moment, she looked so much like Eomer that Lothiriel laughed through her embarrassment.</p><p>“I am sorry,” Lothiriel smiled, standing, “She is so like her father.”</p><p>“It is nothing, Your Majesty,” Guthred smiled, beginning to kneel by Theowen who in turn squared her shoulders at him, and pushed at him.</p><p>“No,” Theowen yelled at him.</p><p>Lothiriel smoothed a hand over Theowen’s back, “Come along, now darling girl.”</p><p>Guthred stood, watching as Lothiriel picked Theowen up and carried her into the carriage. He closed the door once the maid and the governess were safely inside, Eoddis in the governess’ arms, sleeping peacefully.</p><p>Lothiriel pulled Theowen on her lap to wave at the assembled family members, “wave goodbye, Theowen,” she said, doing her best to smile, even as Theowen sat, grim faced, her tiny hands clinging to the door strap, “Why are you being so fussy?”</p><p>“I don’ like them,” Theowen said, glaring out through the window.</p><p>“You do not know them,” Lothiriel said, her voice a little hard, “Please, be nice to the people that are bringing us home.”</p><p>Saeburh reached her paws up to get to her little mistress to comfort her.</p><p>“Sae doesn’ like them, either,” Theowen grumbled.</p><p>Lothiriel leaned back against the seat, not wanting to scold her daughter too roughly. It had been a hard few weeks for all of them, and a little irritability was in truth not so terrible as she had been.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>When Eomer rode into the palace courtyard, Imrahil went immediately to meet him, unsure as to what had happened, why his daughter’s husband was there at all.</p><p>“My lord,” Eomer smiled, “We have made a great amount of success thus far with these rebels.” He looked reassured in everything in the world, “Lothiriel and the girls will go to Aldburg, though until I am certain of their safety.”</p><p>“Of course,” Imrahil said, a slow nervousness coming into his voice, as his mind began to put things together as he watched Eomer look around.</p><p>“Where is Lothiriel?” Eomer asked, his smile dampening a little.</p><p>“A Lord Almod sent word that you were sending men to collect them. They left two days ago.”</p><p>“Almod?” Eomer asked, his eyes darkening. He had set his man to the task of finding Almod, having gotten the proof that he had conspired against Lothiriel from the start.</p><p>Imrahil had seen that look on Eomer’s face only once before, in the heat of battle, and the sudden wash of anxiety that hit Imrahil was enough to make his knees buckle. “I will get my sons and Faramir,” Imrahil said, certain of what had happened.</p><p>“I am riding to Minas Tirith,” Eomer said, his voice heavy with rage, “I need a tracker.” Firefoot deserved a rest after the weeks afield, but that rest would be forestalled further.</p><p>“We will catch up to you,” Imrahil said, hurrying to make the quick preparations needed for the hunt, for that was what this was. His daughter and his granddaughters had been abducted by a band of beasts, and they would run them to ground.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fair warning, this chapter is going to be rough, and pretty dark.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter Nineteen</p><p>Lothiriel looked out through the window of the carriage, her unease growing a little. They were meant to be going to Aldburg, where they would be reunited with Eomer, but she was certain they should have been there by now. They were passing through the Folde, but their path had taken a turn into the mountains, going too far west, if the calculations she did by the stars were right.</p><p>She was not alone in her concern, the women all, looking between each other with a heavy hesitance to speak the concern aloud. They had stopped for the night, and Lothiriel had caught Theowen under the carriage, digging at the dirt with her fingers.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Hiding Maeve,” Theowen said with quiet determination, her little jaw set.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because,” Theowen had been short with her mother for the few days since they had left Dol Amroth, clearly feeling that no one would believe her if she said there was anything else wrong.</p><p>Lothiriel knew the answer, and was more than a little proud, and ashamed that she had led her daughters to what she was more and more certain was danger. She was hiding her doll to leave a hint if they were in fact in danger. She was too smart for her age, Lothiriel thought, standing to hide what Theowen was doing, in case any of the men who were by the day becoming more and more gruff toward them.</p><p>Scanning her eyes over the men as if she was disinterested, she took careful stock of their movements, and where they were putting their tents up, and reined their horses. There was a simple repetition to it. The best chance at the plan that her mind was beginning to form was that it would be easy, as long as she continued to pretend that she suspected nothing. She would gracious and polite, and she would smile at them.</p><p>That night, when she was certain that Theowen was asleep, she stood and peeked out of the tent, to see if anyone was watching. From that place she could see that there were two men, standing a little too close, their eyes catching hers. She smiled and bowed her head curtsying, tying the flaps shut before crossing to the other side of the tent.</p><p>Heohild carefully snuffed the candle in the lantern, watching her mistress pulling a dark shawl over her head.</p><p>The Queen stooped, pulling the dagger from her boot with care, and slipping it into her sleeve. Eomer had insisted that whenever they were on the road that Lothiriel carry a knife for her protection. She had kept it hidden in the false bottom of her sewing box, but that morning, she had slid the knife into her boot. She cut a careful slash at the back of the tent, and peeked out, assuring herself that there were none of the men there. That had been the first sign that something was wrong. They had not circled the tents around her, as had always been done when Lothiriel had ridden with any of the Rohirrim. It was a mistake on their part, clearly not being trained for noble escorts, or in kidnapping.</p><p>She settled against the tent, listening to the men talk.</p><p>“How much longer until we can gag the brat?” asked one of the men.</p><p>Lothiriel felt the rage burn through her, and she knew she needed to hear nothing further. Slipping back into the tent through the small tear, she looked at Gleolith and Heohild, the look on her face enough to tell them what was happening. “The most important thing is… we need to get the children to Aldburg,” Lothiriel said, quietly.</p><p>“I can carry Princess Eoddis easily enough,” Heohild said, looking carefully about the tent.</p><p>“What about you?” Mistress Gleolith asked, recognizing the words that her Queen had said.</p><p>“If all goes well, I will be behind you, but the safety of the princesses is the priority,” Lothiriel said, in a low voice that would accept no questions. She was the target of this, she knew. If she could get her children away from her, these men would not follow after them, especially if they had enough of a head start. She crouched by Theowen’s side, gently rubbing a hand over her back, as she whispered, “Wake up, darling.”</p><p>Theowen groaned, whining a little as she stirred, looking at her mother.</p><p>Lothiriel pressed a gentle finger to Theowen’s lips, “We need to be quiet, alright?”</p><p>Theowen sat up, groggily, her arms wrapped awkwardly around Saeburh, neither moving as Lothiriel wrapped a scarf around the pair of them, to hold them together. Theowen’s hazel eyes watched her mother, confused, but silent.</p><p>“If anyone tries to stop you, run them down,” Lothiriel said to the women, trying to keep her voice level, to not frighten Theowen, as she scooped her up against her chest, pressing her lips against the top of her daughter’s head. The women moved quietly though the camp, keeping to the shadows, and Lothiriel thanked the Valar that Theowen kept silent as she was carried away, her little face pressed against her mother’s shoulder. They silently untied one of the warhorses as Lothiriel kept a calming hand on the horse’s face murmuring low Sindarin to the huge animal. Heohild climbed up first and helped Gleolith onto the horse’s back. There was a cart, loaded down with their chests and with supplies for the journey, but it would take too long to get the rig on the horse, it would draw too much attention to their actions.</p><p>Lothiriel held Theowen up to Gleolith, who carefully took a hold of her. She looked up at the stars quickly, her eyes finding the heading, using her fingers against the dark horizon to find the heading. Eomer had shown her how to do this, “Go that way,” Lothiriel whispered, “It should only be a few hours if you ride fast.”</p><p>“Mama get up here,” Theowen said, clearly only realizing that her mother was not coming with them in that moment.</p><p>“I will be right behind you, my darling,” Lothiriel smiled, looking back, squeezing Theowen’s little hand in hers and kissing her fingers before letting her go, “go, quickly.” She could hear the footsteps coming from a distance. She looked over the horses, and quickly cut free a pale one with the knife from her boot before tucking it carefully into one of her stockings, the garter tied on her thigh holding it in place in its scabbard.</p><p>She took a deep breath and climbed up on it as the women rode away with her children. Someone was coming, and a pale horse would draw the eye quicker than the dark bay that her daughters rode away on. She lifted her hand and smacked the pale rump, making the horse tear loudly away in the other direction.</p><p>“She is trying to escape!” a voice cried out from the camp.</p><p>She tore off, hoping to give them the head start they would need to get away from these men, or that by some shred of a chance that she might be able to escape herself. Her thighs gripped the stead as she rode, hearing someone riding after her, more than one someone, she thought, and they were closing in. The blow of the other body colliding with hers was enough to knock the air out of her as she hit the ground under an armored man. He pressed her against the dirt and the grass, his hands catching her wrists and twisting them behind her back as she struggled to free herself. Another set of hands grasped at her ankles, trying to contain her. They dragged her over the ground back into the camp, dropping her unceremoniously at Guthred’s feet. His smile was harder as he crouched low to look at her, the circle of his men closing in around her. She could not fight them all.</p><p>The only thought that spun in her head over and over again was to buy time, to keep their attention on her, save her daughters.</p><p>One of his men snatched her by the arm, roughly dragging her to kneel.</p><p>“Take your hands off of me at once, treasonous beast!” she snarled, trying to pull away, but the fingers tightened on her arm, “I am your Queen.”</p><p>Someone spat on her, and Lothiriel squared her shoulders, tilting her chin up to stare at these men, with their jeers, and obscene gestures. It was overwhelming, but she would not let them see her dismay. Disgust she was more than willing to show them. She had been born and raised a princess.</p><p>Guthred laughed, taking a dagger from his belt, and skimming the blade of it against her cheek, “It might serve you better to be less imperious, your majesty.” Her title on his tongue felt like a violation of her very station, the words leaving his mouth as if it was a sour taste, “But then, you have never seemed practical to the ways of the real world.</p><p>Her pale grey blue eyes narrowed back at him, “And it might serve you well to release me. If you do so,” she raised her voice, “I will ask the King to show you mercy.”</p><p>The point of the blade scraped against her skin just a little as Guthred pushed some hair back out of her face, studying her, as if he was looking for what it was about her that had so enchanted their king.</p><p>She was a queen, that these men had touched her at all was enough to have their disgusting heads taken from their repulsive bodies. They laughed at her, as if her offer, made genuinely, and with no intention of betrayal, was not one that she had any right to make at all.</p><p>She cast a slow look around, taking in what faces she could see, “You all know what is coming for you. Do you imagine that Eomer King will be forgiving to the men that have abducted his wife?”</p><p>“He will find another one,” Guthred said, smirking, “one that will ensure that the next ruler of this country will be of our kind, not the mutts that you…” his voice stopped suddenly.</p><p>Damn, she had meant to say wife and children.</p><p>Guthred leapt to his feet, “Check the tent!”</p><p>She smirked looking up at him, saying nothing. One of the rebel-riders came tearing back through the tents, “The princesses are gone, and so are the servants!”</p><p>“Did you think I would leave my children to you brutes?” Lothiriel asked, “My daughters are my world.”</p><p>Guthred tossed the dagger with a practiced hand, sticking in firmly in the dirt, and he glared at her, breathing heavily, clearly thinking that this would intimidate her.</p><p>“My husband will find you,” she said, smirking, “and you will regret this foolhardy decision, that I can assure you.”</p><p>The punch to her face was not a surprise but the force behind it was enough to knock her back against the ground, even as she did her best to stay upright.</p><p>“Gag her, and bind her hands,” Guthred shook his hand out against the sting from the strike.</p><p>Rough hands took her up, dragging her to the covered cart. They were planning to stop in a village and sell her things, she heard. She watched as the men set her carriage on fire, having decided that it would not be worth the trouble of bringing it with them.</p><p>She had once been so willing to negotiate with these men. She had tried to understand them, but there seemed to be nothing to them but a hatred of her foreign blood. There was nothing that she could do to rectify this hatred.</p><p>The rag was shoved in her mouth with some difficulty as she had bit and kicked, doing her best to fight them. She would keep the knife secret until the moment came. For now, her captivity seemed enough for the rebels. If she ran, she ran the risk of them chasing down her daughters, either by happenstance or with a purpose.</p><p>Her hands were bound behind her back to a ring in the cart, and there was no way to get comfortable behind the crates of what looked to be supplies that they shoved into the space, blocking her in. She could hear Guthred praising his men for their courage, for victory was in sight, and that their benefactor, Lord Almod would surely reward them all when the foreign bitch was hanged.</p><p>Eomer would come for her, she knew he would. There was not a doubt in her mind that he would find her. He would rescue her, if she did not find a way to rescue herself.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Aragorn, because Eomer still refused to call him Elessar, stooped, studying the tracks. They had found the remains of the carriage the day before and Theowen’s doll under a stone. and it had made tracking the abductors a little more difficult. Aragorn was sure that the children had gotten away, riding in the direction of Aldburg, and one of Eothain’s lieutenants had gone there ahead to ensure the safety of the princesses, but was not so certain that Lothiriel had gotten away. He knew the governess by sight but reported that she would not tell him if the children were there, clearly not trusting any person but the King. It did little for Eomer’s anxiety. He left his men with Aragorn and rode to his house to see for himself.</p><p>Theowen ran through the door, clearly having broken free of whoever was meant to be minding her. Her little hands clung to him, “Where’s mama?” she asked, staring at him, her fear stabbing at his very heart.</p><p>Eomer did not know what to say. He held her face against his shoulder, hiding his own pain from her.</p><p>He all but interrogated Mistresses Heohild and Gleolith. How had Lothiriel planned to save the puppy, but not herself? Were they involved? At what point had they realized what was happening? Where had the men been taking them? Did they know what road they had been taking?</p><p>His fear that he would not find his wife alive at the end of this search was all encompassing. He should sleep, he knew, but he could not manage it. Finding Lothiriel, and bringing her home safely was more important than his comfort.</p><p>The girls were to go back to Edoras, under Eothain’s care, their home being better fortified, and made for better defense of his heirs than Aldburg was. He would later look back on the gruff tone he had taken in giving the order with a little regret, but there was an understanding between the two men, both husbands and fathers and he knew that Eothain would not hold it against him.</p><p>Before he left, Heohild approached her King, with some anxiety, and curtsied, “My lord.”</p><p>Eomer stared at her, waiting for her to just tell him what it was she wanted. He did not have time for her nerves.</p><p>She held out a slip of parchment, “I was not certain how else I could help.”</p><p>He looked at it, confused by the charcoal image on it a man with hard eyes and a strong nose. He hated the face that looked back at him.</p><p>“This is the man that seemed to be their leader, as best I could remember his face. They called him Guthred, I cannot say if that is his true name.”</p><p>Eomer softened, doing his best to show his gratitude, “Thank you, for this, and for saving my children.”</p><p>Heohild shook her head, “Lothiriel saved us all, I was only there. I should have stayed with her.”</p><p>“No,” he studied the face, his mouth curling, “I must go, I have lost too much time, already.”</p><p>He mounted the horse and rode off, doing his best to ride quickly, while conserving Firefoot’s energy.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Theowen looked through the window, watching her father disappearing over the horizon, her arms crossed on the windowsill, fat tears rolling over her cheeks.</p><p>“Are you alright, your highness?” Gleolith asked, kneeling next to one of the princesses in her charge.”</p><p>“I want Mama, I want Papa,” Theowen sobbed, her little voice cracking. She huffed, trying to breath.</p><p>“I know, lamb,” Gleolith wiped the tears away, “I know.”</p><p>“Where is Mama?”</p><p>Gleolith hesitated, “She will be home soon.”</p><p>“The bad men have her,” Theowen said, “I said they were bad.” She reached up, her chubby little arms wrapping around her governess.</p><p>“How did you know?”</p><p>“I saw fire,” Theowen panted between sobs. “there was fire, and I don’ see Mama.”</p><p>Gleolith rubbed Theowen’s back, hoping that every terrible thing that had happened would be done soon enough, and that there would be nothing further to trouble this family. When the sobs quieted a little, Gleolith had to find the way to ask the question that had been on her mind for weeks, even before Eomer King had left Dol Amroth, “Can you usually see your Mama and Papa?”</p><p>“Sometimes,” Theowen sniffed, accepting a handkerchief for her little nose, “but sometimes it’s just things.”</p><p>“Is that why you were so upset when your father left Dol Amroth?”</p><p>“I knew it was bad.”</p><p>“And what did you see?”</p><p>Theowen shook her head, not wanting to say it.</p><p>“You can tell me,” Gleolith said, looking into her eyes.</p><p>“I saw our house, but it was broken.”</p><p>“Broken?”</p><p>“The top wasn’t on it,” Theowen said, and “It was…” she shifted her hands.</p><p>“Falling down?”</p><p>Theowen nodded, her chin wobbling.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“Citizens of Rohan!” the rider called in the village square, “All hear me! Our Queen has been abducted by traitors!”</p><p>The villagers stared back, aghast, horrified by the words, some stopping short as they left their houses and shops to hear what news was coming now.</p><p>“Please keep an eye on any strangers among you, even if they present themselves as soldiers of Eomer King. There is a reward for any information that leads to her safe return!” The rider continued, “And there will punishment for anyone who knowingly aids these scoundrels! Lothiriel Queen is a meter and a half tall with long black curly hair, and pale eyes!”</p><p>Every citizen of the Mark knew already what she looked like, but signs were being hung in every village, as well as a copy of the sketch that Heohild had done of the man Guthred. They had been jotted out as quickly as possible.</p><p>For his part, Guthred watched, casting a quick look at one of his men as he adjusted the hood on his head, turning back to the cart. They had not gotten as much for the woman’s dresses as he had hoped. The banging against the inside of the cart was going to be a problem, if she didn’t stop it.</p><p>He lifted the linen covering and reached casually in before yanking a fistful of Lothiriel’s hair and slamming her head against the side of the cart hard enough that she saw pinpricks of light in front of her eyes. The quick violence of it quieted her.</p><p>Her eyes narrowed hatefully at him for a moment as she tried to scream through the gag in her mouth. She had been driven through the country for two days like this, the gag only removed so they could force food into her mouth once a day. The humiliation made all the worse in the fact that they did not let her out to relieve herself. The idea of these brutes having their bodies burned had become a focus on her imagination.</p><p>His eyes narrowed in return, twisting her hair a little harder to make the point, threatening her with a further attack if she made any more noise.</p><p>She kicked at one of the crates, hoping to push them from the cart entirely, hoping that the disruption would make someone come to help, or the rider would take notice. The blade was back at her throat, the sharp edge forcing her instinctively to freeze.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>They had come through a village earlier, and in some small piece of luck at last had come. One of the rebels had been separated from the group, staying at a tavern, and drinking so much that he had called out a curse on Lothiriel Queen. According to witness testimony, there had been a quick look from the men in the tavern, each trying to decide if this was some jest poorly timed, but it had seemed that no one had time for such humor, and they had attacked him, and sent a young rider with word. By chance he had come upon them and led them back to where they had tied that ingrate to a whipping post in the middle of town.</p><p>The cretin had done his best to stand, and to bow to his king, and that show of respect had thrown kindling on the pyre of rage, which burned all the more when he turned his eyes on Aragorn and Lothiriel’s family, taking in their Gondorian armor and spat on the ground.</p><p>“May I kill him?” Amrothos asked in a low voice.</p><p>“Not yet,” Eomer dismounted, stalking over the weevil of a man, his hand clenching and unclenching in a fist as he stooped, glaring into the face that looked back at him, with unabashed interest.</p><p>“Eomer King, it is a great honor to be in your presence, Eadig,” the head bowed, “I am Herugel, son of-”</p><p>“I do not care what your name is,” Eomer’s voice was hard, a deep roar, “Where is my wife?”</p><p>The man, Herugel paled, and tried to smirk, “I would not know, my lord. I am here, and she is not.”</p><p>“Where is your band taking her?” Imrahil asked, coming to stand by Eomer’s side.</p><p>“I do not answer to foreign invaders,” Herugel replied, settling back on his haunches and leaning against the whipping post, clearly comfortable in having a belief, hateful as it was.</p><p>Eomer snatched the man’s face between his hands, without a single thought and began to press his hands, squeezing Herugel’s head, “Give me a reason to not crush your skull between my hands.”</p><p>“She is still alive,” Herugel whimpered, not able to move from the pressure.</p><p>Eomer’s hands loosened, but did not release him, or speak. He stared, waiting for more information.</p><p>“At least, she was. They’re keeping her in a cart, so no one will know they have her,” Herugel said, his eyes wide.</p><p>“How do we know that is true?” Imrahil asked, his hand on his sword.</p><p>“The bitch does not go quietly,” Herugel spat at Imrahil, “we had to gag her, to keep her quiet, and to keep her from biting anyone.”</p><p>Perhaps he should not have felt that sense of pride at the words, but he did, smiling grimly.</p><p>“Perhaps you might have let her go, were you so afraid of her fighting you,” Elphir called.</p><p>Herugel’s eyes shot to the prince’s sons a moment, “and perhaps you might take her back, if you worry so for her life.”</p><p>Eomer’s palms pressed again, squeezing the skull, and knowing how easy it would be to bring his hands together through the bones. The cur screamed, but Eomer was so far into his rage that he did not recognize the words that were coming out of his mouth. He was only brought out of it by Aragorn’s hand on his arm, pulling him back.</p><p>“Guthred and his men are going to Trihyrne,” the man gasped, doubling over as far as his chains would let him, “Lord Almod is in the mountain pass there.”</p><p>Eomer stood up, glaring at the man. He could feel his companions staring at him, and were he not fixated on finding Lothiriel, he would have felt shame at his behavior, or wonder if they were afraid of him, disgusted in his rage.</p><p>“Please, mercy, Eomer King,” Herugel begged, “I will lead you to them!”</p><p>Eomer turned away, looking between Imrahil and Aragorn, waiting for them to speak.</p><p>“We cannot trust him,” Imrahil said, having weighed the options quickly.</p><p>“I doubt he is lying,” Aragorn said, “Trihyrne could very well be their destination, if their path is an indication.”</p><p>“I mean that I do not trust him well enough to take him with us. He could lead us from the path that we know they are taking or lead us to an ambush of his compatriots.”</p><p>Eomer’s heart was pounding so hard that he could hear it, “We will not bring him. I am King, and he is a traitor.”</p><p>There was no dissent, both of the men knowing the penalty that would await anyone that had a hand in this plot. Eomer looked back, seeing the faces of his people watching.</p><p>“Herugel, you are guilty of treason against the Crown of Rohan, by your own admission,” Eomer’s hand tightened on the handle of his sword, pulling it free from its sheath. The traitor’s eyes widened, but he did not beg again, “Have you any last words?”</p><p>“Rohan is for Eorlingas! Death to the foreign Queen!” Herugel cried out just before he was beheaded.</p><p>Eomer wiped the blood from his sword, not wanting any part of these traitors on anything that he owned longer than necessary.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>That night, she was dragged from the back of the crate by the length of her braid and thrown to the ground, a bowl of mealy stew shoved in front of her. She sat back on her heels, “I need my hands,” she said, when the gag was ripped from her mouth. Her lips were chapped, and her jaw hurt.</p><p>One of the men who had been given the charge of her replied by shoving her face into the bowl, holding it in the wet food, “Eat.”</p><p>She sputtered, stew leaking from her nose. The men laughed at her, and she took comfort that they would suffer for putting her through this humiliation. Having her face shoved into a bowl like an animal was bad enough, but the vulgar comments were another thing, and she wondered if they were said in earnest, or if it was only because they would make her uncomfortable. They called her a rodent, and mocked her face, her figure, and it was enough to make her want to retort. Controlling her temper was a struggle, but she did her best to remain impassive, at least on the outside.</p><p>One of the men hovered beside her, leaning close as if to smell her hair, “You know, I have never fucked a Queen. Do you think your husband would mind?”</p><p>She did not dignify that statement or any other with a reply, or a reaction staring straight ahead of her, but she wished they would put her back in her box. When they finally did put her back, she wiggled the knife free from her garter and carefully moved it between her feet to where her hands could get a hold of it. Cutting the ropes around her wrists was a long process, as she did it blindly, trying not to cut herself. She was going to try to run, and to get away before something happened to her worse than this captivity. She was not going to let any of those beasts touch her, having decided that she would rather turn the knife on herself than live if such a thing happened. It was admittedly preferable to kill every one of them as they slept.</p><p>When the men had fallen silent for long enough to take the risk, Lothiriel peered up out of the cart, looking around she saw no one. It was dark enough, the fires smoldering, so that she might at least do her best to make a run for it. She could hide in the grass until it was light enough to follow the tracks back to the village and she could tell someone what had happened.</p><p>Freedom was so close that she could almost taste it. She was going home she was going to hold her daughters. They had to be safe, for if they were not… she could not even bare to think of it.</p><p>The shock of hands on her again should have worn off by now, but she still felt her skin crawling under the grip of a stranger, yanking her back, and calling out the alarm. Her arm moved without hesitation digging the blade into the side of the man that held her. She had never killed a man before, and she had not expected the look of shock on his face, or the gasp that left him. His hand grasped her, as if trying to hold on, even as she pulled the knife out and staring at him, horrified.</p><p>Seeing the men rousing, and coming from their tents, she turned and ran, the bloody knife still in her hand, and silent tears on her cheeks.</p><p>More than one man slammed into her, taking her to the ground, and peeling the knife from her hand. She scratched and bit, kicking at any man that came at her, to what little effect it had.</p><p>“She’s killed Aldan!” a voice called out.</p><p>“You like to play with knives, rat?” a man asked, his knee pressed against her stomach, pressing the air out of her. He brought the knife down over her head, stabbing at the dirt by her face, and then by her shoulder, and then her cheek. Lothiriel had spent the last few days trying so hard not to show fear, but she winced, drawing into herself, and trying to get away. She wanted to be away from the laughter and the men that wanted little more than to torment her.</p><p>The man with her knife settled back, taking a lock of her hair in hand, twisting it tight between his fingers. He jerked his head and one of his companions took Lothiriel’s hands. They forced her to sit up, tying her wrists behind her back again. The man passed the knife to the one behind her, some plan passing between them without word. They were touching her hair, unbinding it.</p><p>Without thought, she slammed her face against the nose of the man in front of her. Blood poured from his face behind his hands, but he laughed, scaring her more than if he had screamed.</p><p>“Do it,” he said, wiping his nose on his sleeve, hatred burning in his eyes.</p><p>The knife started sawing away at her hair, the man pulling locks of it away with relish, “Who wants some?”</p><p>She closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears in check, but failing as her hair was thrown about the company.</p><p>“Fastlaf, Eadtor,” Guthred called, his sounding irritated by this game, “It is the middle of the night. Put the prisoner back, please.”</p><p>The man over her paused, her knife still in his hand. His eyes cut back down to her for a moment as if debating following the order or toying with her further. Guthred walked the way Lothiriel did whenever Theowen was misbehaving, and she had to go put her in time out. Is that how this brute of a man felt about the men in his command? That they were all children in armor? Guthred shoved Fastlaf’s shoulder before snatching Lothiriel up by the collar of her dress.</p><p>“How difficult is it to keep a pampered princess under control?” Guthred asked, his irritation turning to flat out rage.</p><p>Lothiriel smirked through her tears, it was an excellent question, that her family had contended with. She looked out over the plains back to where she had tried to run, trying to see something, anything that might help her.</p><p>He glared at his men, snatching some of her hair from one of them, “Give them another means to track us, why not?” He shoved her into the hands of a man who lifted her with all the care of a sack of turnips and threw her back into the cart before climbing in after her and through her struggling bound her again to the ring inside.</p><p>She let out the loudest scream she could manage, hoping against hope that someone would hear her biting at the fingers that gagged her again. Hot tears of frustration, of shame poured down her face. Biting her tongue, to try to quiet herself, she pressed her face against the side of the cart. Eomer loved her hair, she did her best to go into her memories, trying to take what comfort she could in her memories with her family, with her husband, but it all felt bittersweet now.</p><p>Where was Eomer? How far could he be from her?</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>He stared into the fire, knowing that the stop had been necessary, though it took all of his control not to just keep walking. They had to be getting close. They had to.</p><p>They had to be close behind them, and he had wanted to keep riding when they found the body, Lothiriel’s dagger sticking out of the chest. Someone had twisted and tied locks of her hair around the handle. There had been a scuffle, and even Eomer could see the track of Lothiriel’s smaller feet, trying to walk, but being dragged along. Lengths of her hair were dropped in the grass, and Eomer had picked up as much of it as he could, feeling himself going mad as he did it, trying to take back the small part of her that he could.</p><p>Now, staring into the flames, he still felt the weight of the execution, and the others that would be at the end of this, but he could not make himself regret any of it. He would not apologize for reacting violently.</p><p>“How are you holding up?” Amrothos’ voice startled Eomer out of his thoughts.</p><p>He grunted a reply, not wanting to talk. He had gotten a few hours of sleep when they stopped, but he could not sleep more than that.</p><p>Amrothos held a wineskin out to him, and felt a little better when Eomer took it, taking a long drink, “We will find her.”</p><p>Eomer did not answer or look at his wife’s brother. He did not want the pity he felt coming from him. He had been so happy such a short time ago. He wanted to hold his wife. He twisted her hair between his fingers, having braided what he could find of it together, “Do you think I did right?” He barely recognized his own voice.</p><p>“You mean, in killing that man? No, I do not,” Amrothos admitted.</p><p>Eomer turned his eyes on the younger lord, staring at him, “You would have had me spare him?”</p><p>“No,” Amrothos said quickly, holding a hand up, “but a stomach wound seems more fitting to me.”</p><p>Eomer’s brow crinkled in confusion.</p><p>“It is a slower death, and more painful,” Amrothos looked away, “Lothiriel is my sister. I tease her, and we fight, and…” he swallowed, “she is my sister, and…” he saw Eomer’s hands covering his face from the corner of his eye, but he did not look at him, “anyone that would hurt her deserves what happens to them.” He glanced carefully at Eomer, wiping his eyes. It was strange to see the King of Rohan, a man that would have crushed a kidnapper’s head like a grape without any hesitation, crying.</p><p>Eomer sniffed, crossing his arms on his knees, staring back at the fire, setting his mouth in a hard line, biting down on his back teeth, trying to hold everything inside. “I do not want to think of what is happening to her, what she is suffering, but I cannot stop myself from thinking of the worst things.”</p><p>Amrothos sat quietly, listening.</p><p>There had been times when Eomer had woken in the night, in a panic, the ringing of swords fresh in his mind, and Lothiriel had always woken up and wrapped him gently in her arms and held his head against her chest until his panic passed. She had seen him cry and had never called him weak for it.</p><p>“I promised her that I would protect her,” Eomer said, “And I have not been able to do anything. I am sitting here, and she is…” he gestured, “I know that we are going as quickly as we can, but it feels like trying to grasp at mist. Every moment we spend not riding them down, they get further away, and that every moment is another moment that Thiriel is in the hands of her enemies.”</p><p>“And perhaps by the time we get to her, she will have already killed them all,” Amrothos said, as ever falling into humor when he was in pain. He winced, “I apologize.”</p><p>“She should not have needed to do so,” Eomer said, “I should have ensured that my family was safe.”</p><p>Amrothos looked up at the sound of horses, “Ah,” he jerked his chin.</p><p>Eomer watched Aragorn and Erchirion return, a light in their eyes as they approached. They had ridden ahead to scout out the rest of the trail of the abductors, to save time in the morning.</p><p>“They are a few miles ahead,” Erchirion gasped, doing his best not to smile as he said it.</p><p>“Are you certain?” Eomer asked.</p><p>“The tracks are true,” Aragorn said, his jaw set as his gave the news, “Amrothos, rouse the men, and make ready.”</p><p>“How many are they?” Eomer asked.</p><p>“Twenty or so.”</p><p>Somehow Eomer had expected there to be an army, but then, they had decimated most of that traitorous rebellion.</p><p>“We should be certain that they are the men we are seeking before we attack,” Imrahil said in a low voice, though everyone knew he was saying it more out of a need to check himself.</p><p>Eomer urged Firefoot on, into the camp at a casual pace. His eyes scanned the space and saw only two men on the watch. They scrambled to their feet their eyes wide as they stared at him. One bowed, nudging the other to do so.</p><p>“Eomer King, you honor us,” one said.</p><p>“We are following the traitors that have abducted Lothiriel Queen. Have either of you seen anything?” Eomer asked, dismounting and looking at the men carefully.</p><p>“No, we are simply on patrol.”</p><p>Eomer nodded, “where is your leader?”</p><p>“I will fetch him for you,” the other man started away.</p><p>“Guthred!” Eomer called out, his loud voice shattering the quiet of the early morning. He wanted a moment, “Guthred!” he yelled again.</p><p>One of the tents shifted, the flaps opening. A voice grumbled, “What has happened now, you fools?” The man lifted his head and looked at them, taking a moment too long to recognize the King, standing there. Heohild’s sketch of him was a good likeness.</p><p>“Where is she?” Eomer asked.</p><p>Guthred bowed, “Your Majesty, where is who?”</p><p>Eomer stepped across the distance between them, standing close, their faces only inches apart. Without taking his eyes from Guthred’s, he reached down, and took the small braid from the man’s belt, and held it up to his face, knowing what it was; a trophy. His eyes cut back to Guthred’s, “Where is she?” he repeated.</p><p>Guthred’s eyes cut to the men on watch then back to Eomer. He took in a breath, “THE KING!” he called out, raising the alarm.</p><p>Eomer smirked at him, more than glad for the reason to attack, before taking Guthred to the ground, fists connecting with the traitor’s jaw</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Buckle in for some angst!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the cover of the cart was pulled back, Lothiriel curled harder into herself, the bright sun hurting her eyes, her elbows turned awkwardly over her head to ward off any attack, having heard the shouts and screaming and certain that the men had turned on each other, and she was not certain who would have won out, or what it would mean for her.</p><p>“Sister?” a voice over her head called, gently.</p><p>Her dark head turned, and she saw Erchirion’s face. He climbed up on the cartwheel, and climbed into the close space, wincing a little at the smell.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he asked, trying to keep the shocked dismay from his face as he looked at her own, mottled with bruises. She smelled of human waste and looked as if she had been through a battle, her cheek was swollen under and beyond the gag that he removed with gentle hands.</p><p>“Where is Eomer?” she asked, her voice creaking a little.</p><p>“Putting down a small rebellion,” Erchirion did his best to tease, peeking up over the edge of the cart.</p><p>Most of the men were dead or dying, a small group of them running for their lives, becoming a shadow on the grass as Eomer’s men trailed them, spears at the ready. Erchirion stood, and offered Lothiriel his hand, helping her up on her weakened legs. Her head hung as he helped her stand on the ground, her legs trembling. She was finally free.</p><p>Her husband saw her, and ran to her, slowing his steps a little, worried that the trauma of the last week would mean that she would not want to be touched. His hands hovered before her, waiting for permission.</p><p>She tumbled forward against his breastplate, clinging to him, and shaking. His gentle hands smoothed over her hair, over her back. They collapsed to their knees, his arms not leaving her. She pulled back to look at him, not certain that he was really there. Her hands cupped his cheeks, wiping at the tears that streamed down his face. He kissed her lips gently, pressing his brow to hers. Neither of them said a word, just held each other.</p><p>Imrahil watched from a distance, somewhat surprised that his son-by-law had stopped his part in the slaughter. Now, standing, surrounded by death, watching Eomer hold his daughter so tenderly did at least comfort him a little. The King and Queen had always been clearly in love, but they had never to his knowledge held each other in such a way as this, in the sight of others.</p><p>Dropping his head to his wife’s shoulder, Eomer squeezed his eyes shut, letting the calm wash over him for a moment. He pulled back, touching her face with careful fingers, noting each bruise and mark, and kissed each hurt gently as he could.</p><p>“The girls…” Lothiriel started, her voice a low croak.</p><p>“They are safe,” Eomer’s lips quirked a little, “and so is Saeburh.”</p><p>“Theowen would never forgive me if anything happened to her dog,” Lothiriel smiled timidly, tears still rolling down her cheeks.</p><p>Eomer gently tried to comb his fingers through her tangled hair, holding her head in his hands, his thumbs moving the wipe the tears away again, just looking at her.</p><p>“I need to wash,” Lothiriel said, ashamed of how filthy she was, “I…” she looked away.</p><p>“Of course,” Eomer pushed some of her hair back from her face, just wanting to look at her a moment longer.</p><p>“My ankle is…” she hesitated, “It hurts to stand.”</p><p>He scooped her up in his arms, careful of the injuries to her body. She did not mind the blood on his hands, or on his armor, but she tucked her face against his chest, feeling something like shame at her appearance. She was afraid of what she would see when she finally saw her reflection, certain that she looked like a wretched thing, some street child, or worse.</p><p>There was a small creek a short distance, and he settled her down, watching her with concern as she crawled the water to splash water on her face and arms. Her ragged kirtle was soiled beyond wanting to wear it further, but she stared back at him, not sure that she had anything else to wear. “There might be some of my clothing in one of the trunks,” her voice was small, almost timid.</p><p>“I will go and see what can be found for you,” Eomer wrapped his travel cloak over her shoulders, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.</p><p>She watched him, doing her best to smile after him, but she knew it was more grimace than smile. Trepidation prickled at her mind as she leaned forward to look at the warped reflection in the water. Her cheeks and one of her eyes were back and blue, the pale shape of her face framed by a dark halo of tangled hair barely brushing her shoulders. She plunged her hands into the water, not wanting to see herself.</p><p>Eomer stepped loudly though the grass as he returned, not wanting to startle her as he approached, watching her scrub at her legs as much as she could without being too immodest, though no one would look at her if she undressed, or called back for them to avert their eyes. He touched her shoulder gently, and did his best not feel pain at the small flinch in her shoulders, cowering from the touch.</p><p>“Your brothers are putting my tent up for you, so that you can change your clothes, and rest if you wish,” he said, his voice gentle.</p><p>“Thank you,” she took the clean dress from him, her face still downturned.</p><p>He crouched beside her, trying to catch her eye with his, his hand hovering over her shoulder. He wanted to take her back into his arms, not caring how dirty she was.</p><p>She turned her face from him.</p><p>“I am sorry, my love,” he murmured, letting his hand fall back by his side, clenched in a fist.</p><p>“Whatever for?” she asked, startled by his apology, her face beginning to turn back to him before she checked herself.</p><p>“For not protecting you,” he replied. Could she not stand to look at him at all, now that the initial relief of rescue had passed? “I ought to have left men with you in Dol Amroth, I ought to have sent word to you, I ought to have thought that someone might come for you and for our daughters.”</p><p>“It is not your sin, Eomer,” her voice was so small but definite in her words, “You did not do this.”</p><p>“Will you not look at me?”</p><p>She swallowed back a fresh round of tears, “I do not want you to be forced to look at the harms done to me.”</p><p>His fingers were gentle under her chin, pulling her gaze to him, and he skimmed the softest touch over her cheek. The tension in his jaw shifted back and forth, “Those that have been the masters of these beasts will be brought back to Edoras in chains.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“I sent my men ahead to Trihyrne, and they will take Almod, and anyone else that is with him. My men were bid to bring them back alive.”</p><p>“And you did not go with them?”</p><p>Eomer did his best to smile, but found it hard, “Your welfare is more important than vengeance. There will be time enough for that once we are home.”</p><p>She started to withdraw from him, and he fought the urge to grasp her face in his hands, to make her look at him, to see him. His hand held a moment in the air by her face, stopped short when he saw the flinch again. Standing, he offered his hand to her, doing his best to be gentle. He did not know what had happened to her, but more than that, he did not know how to ask. She would speak to him in time, he knew. She took his hand carefully, leaning on him as she walked, limping a little.</p><p>“I can carry you, if you need.”</p><p>She nodded, still not looking at him, hiding her face once more in the slim space between them, and behind his cloak. “You think me vain.” She said quietly when he had set her down in the enclosed space of the tent, and took her kirtle stained with blood and whatever else off of her body.</p><p>The bruises were not confined to her face, and Eomer did his best not to stare, certain that she would be able to feel the rage in that look.</p><p>“No, I do not,” he said in a low voice.</p><p>“I look…” She smoothed a hand over the clean material, standing there, bare and exposed to her husband’s gaze, giving him the chance to leave her side, or to react in some way.</p><p>He sat by quietly, wanting to give her the time to think, to find whatever words she wanted.</p><p>“My hair,” she said, pulling the garment over her head with some difficulty, “my body, my face…” She sat down, still facing away from him, but near enough that if he reached out his hand, he would touch her. Those proud shoulders slumped forward away from him.</p><p>“I am only happy that you are alive,” he said, “I feared that we would be too late.” He had seen her beaten and bloody before, but so long ago that he had forgotten how much he hated it.</p><p>She spun her face back to him, her lip curled a little, “You like what you see?”</p><p>“Your flesh will heal and your hair will grow, but I am angry,” he said, his voice turning harder, “I have been angry for over a week now, so angry that I have felt as if my very body would burn up for the rage of it all,” he reached out, smoothing a hand over her hair, his eyes not leaving hers. The fury burned again as he looked at her swollen cheek. “I ask only that you not turn from me, especially not out of some fear that I would find you anything less than what you are. You are my wife, I love you, and nothing will change that.”</p><p>Lothiriel had always seemed so much smaller than he, but now she seemed so thin and pale, as she looked back at him, “I tried to get away.”</p><p>“I know,” he smiled, the pads of his fingers caressing her cheek.</p><p>“I killed a man,” her voice was choked, “he was so young, hardly more than a boy.”</p><p>He did not have the words to assure her that she had only acted to try to save her own life, and to make her believe it. Gently, he pulled her head against his chest, and wrapped his arms around her again, not holding her as firmly as he wanted to. He pressed his face against her head, holding back his words, his questions. There was a pricking in his eyes as he squeezed them tight, tears of rage and frustration wanting to free themselves as his wife sobbed against his chest. Every emotion felt bound together in his heart, a tight knot trying to force its way into his throat. He would tell her the things he had done, but not now. She needed comforting, and time to heal, and he would give her that time, even if he was not sure of the extent of the harms.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Theowen sat up suddenly, dropping her spoon on the table. Her rabbit stew, which in truth had only held a fraction of her attention, entirely disregarded. She had been pushing the meat and potatoes around in the soup, ignoring the gentle chidings from her governess and her aunt that she had to eat. “Mama is alright now.”</p><p>The adults looked at her. No one had wanted to let either of the princesses out of their sight since they had left Aldburg.</p><p>Aunt Eowyn, smiled a little from her place next to the princess, touching her little hand gently. Eowyn and Faramir had come to watch the girls as soon as they knew what was happening, wanting to ensure that no one would try to remove them from their home.</p><p>Eothain had hovered behind the elder daughter, being certain that if Theowen suffered so much as a skinned knee, or Eoddis had taken a fever that Eomer would… he wasn’t sure what Eomer would do, but he also had no interest in finding out. For his part, having been around Theowen for all of her life, he found her greater comfort with saying uncanny things as that equal parts comforting and disconcerting. He gave a small sound of comfort, and interest, not certain what else to do.</p><p>“Did you see something, Your Highness?”</p><p>“No,” Theowen said. She did not like everyone asking her questions, as if they did not believe her. “I just know that Papa is with her, Grandfather and the uncles, too.” She paused, “And Eldarion’s papa…”</p><p>No one wanted to ask for further information, to ask what that meant, or how often this sort of thing would happen, or to what extent she knew or saw things, but Gleolith asked, “Is the house still broken?”</p><p>Theowen shrugged, eating a little, clearly not worried at all about anything. Eowyn and Faramir gave each other a quick look, both trying to decide if they should push her to say more, even if she did not want to talk to them.</p><p>Faramir reached out a hand and smoothed it over her head, “Then you have no more reasons not to finish your supper.”</p><p>She stared back at him, her eyes narrowing, and his in return, though her face curled up, doing her best to maintain her look of fury at having been spoken to in such a way. Her uncle tweaked her nose teasingly before patting her head.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Her family members that had come with Eomer had wanted to see her, to sit with her, and she could see their attempts at pretending that everything was normal, that there was nothing wrong. But they all turned their eyes from her with quick furtive movements as if they feared staring at her would make her somehow more uncomfortable than their inability to look at her. Of course, Eomer was right, none of the damage was permanent, but still it was little comfort yet in that. She drank the wine offered her and it helped a little with the pain in her body.</p><p>They had all spoken, reassuring her that her daughters were safe, and that she was brave, but she was not certain of the honesty in the words. They had traveled so far to find her, and it felt strange that there had been no hesitation even to bring the High King of Gondor from the White City to track the men that had taken her. They all agreed that they would leave at the first hint of light to get her safely home, Elphir offering to go to Trihyrne and meet with Eomer’s men to assure that the traitors were brought back. There was a quick look between her brothers and Eomer, a silent agreement that these men would be brought back to stand trial, Almod most of all.</p><p>“I will need to see if any others of my lords were involved in this plot,” Eomer said, his voice heavy with dread at the implications of his words, and of the very idea that there had been those that had plotted to harm his family in his own council.</p><p>“I think he acted alone, at least as far as anyone of his status,” Lothiriel replied, still wrapped in Eomer’s cloak, and looked a little like a child that had pulled a blanket from a bed, “but then I thought he was a friend…”</p><p>“Why do you think so?” Imrahil asked.</p><p>“He was the only one those men spoke of, though they could have simply been answering to him directly on this plan.”</p><p>“I find it hard to believe that no one else knew.”</p><p>“Almod had always kept his own council, and something of this nature,” Eomer shook his head, trying to work out any other sign, from anyone. He was not so gifted as his wife in reading people’s intentions, and even she had been misled. There would be a full investigation, into every member of the court now, and it might not be a popular thing, he knew.</p><p>“Oaths of fealty,” Lothiriel said quietly, “taken under pain of death.” She looked up, realizing that everyone was looking at her, “Make every member of the court retake their oaths of fealty, and to swear protection of your family and watch for any hesitation.”</p><p>“Do you think it would work?”</p><p>“In truth, I think that most of this rabble seems snuffed out. Taking us was their last attempt at…” she could not find the words for what they had hoped to accomplish. “I doubt that after this they would be able to raise their cause again. Anyone that might agree with them would do so quietly, knowing what end would come of it.”</p><p>“Are you content with that?”</p><p>“I do not care what that small portion people think of me, not anymore. I heard those villagers when the word came that I had been taken. They seemed honestly horrified.”</p><p>Amrothos chuckled, “Well, that is a certainty after what they did to the lost member of the party.”</p><p>She looked at him, confused.</p><p>“One of the abductors fell behind and drank himself to foolishness and was attacked by the whole of the village from the looks of him.”</p><p>“Truly?”</p><p>“They even cheered when Eomer took his head,” Amrothos looked to Erchirion in confusion at the nudging as his brother tried to bid him to hold his tongue.</p><p>Lothiriel’s eyes widened, looking to Eomer who did not meet her eye.</p><p>“He was a traitor,” Eomer said quietly, “and that is the lawful punishment for traitors.”</p><p>She looked to Elessar, who had been quiet, watching her with a careful eye. He nodded a little in confirmation, free of any judgement of Eomer’s actions.</p><p>It was somehow different than the men that had died fighting, she knew Eomer had killed before in fights, and in battles. And she knew that anyone brought to Edoras for trial would be beheaded as well. She had made jests about execution, but the truth of it was different, even if she had not witnessed it. She studied Eomer carefully, and she could see that he bore the weight of his action more heavily than perhaps he should have.</p><p>She took his hand in hers, the only comfort she could think to give him at that moment.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer had walked her to the tent, his tent, and stopped, his head bowed, not certain that she would want him with her. Even knowing that she understood him taking on the execution of one of her kidnappers himself, there was more there between them that was unsaid and things outside of them in the time they had been separated that was still unknown. She looked back at him, confused at his standing there.</p><p>“If you would prefer to be alone,” he said carefully, “I would understand.”</p><p>“Where would you sleep, then?”</p><p>“I have slept in the open air before, love,” his dark eyes poured into hers for a moment a patient smile almost forming on his lips.</p><p>She dropped her own gaze, “I thought that you would want to be near me, after we have been so long apart. You always have in the past.” The whisper of her voice was so soft that he could almost not hear her.</p><p>“Of course, I do, but I would not wish to impose,” he tilted her chin up, making her at least face him, even if her eyes took a moment to meet his still, “You have been through much, and I wish to give you any time or space you might need.”</p><p>There was something strange in her gaze, an amalgamation of so many emotions that he did not know how to decipher it. It was almost a shock when her small hand reached out to his, a careful touch of her trembling fingers twining with his, “I do not wish to be alone, husband.”</p><p>He smoothed his thumb over hers, carefully, lifting her hand to his lips. Her skin was still so soft and that anyone might think to strike or harm such delicate skin seemed a sin beyond reckoning to him. He let her lead him into the tent, quietly. His bedroll was small, but he was more than happy to sleep on the ground beside her, and he told her so without words as he pulled the covers back for her.</p><p>She watched him, and her eyes were almost sad as she looked at him in the dim light, stooping to lay down, doing her best to make room for him. She wanted things to be normal between them, to return to the way things had been, but she was still uncertain as to how she should be with him. Every movement she made felt staggered somehow, as if she had forgotten what she was meant to be doing, as if she had not been married long enough now to be comfortable in her own skin.</p><p>She felt the mass of his body in the space beside her, and she rolled onto her side to look at him, her hand moving slowly to touch his cheek, “It seems strange to me that you are here. I keep expecting to be woken from a dream.”</p><p>His lips were soft on hers, and she kissed him back, a little timidly. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see the question that he would not ask her, “I was not defiled,” she said quietly, embarrassed at even at having to say the words, darting her eyes away from him again as she spoke, “they made sport of my suffering, and alluded to such vulgarities, but no one acted upon their words.”</p><p>His fingers found hers in the dark, squeezing her hand a little, and she could feel the relief coming off of him in waves, though she knew still that his concern for her would not be stopped at that.</p><p>Looking back at him, she moved haltingly, smoothing the fingers of her free hand over his brow. In time everything would return to normal; she knew it would. She had married a good man, they had married for love, and they still loved each other, even if at present she felt as though her emotions were muted. She could still feel the thrum in her breast. She wanted to sleep in his arms, even though she knew that after a few hours of sleep she would be kicking at him for space and cool air, but she knew that she was not ready to curl herself into his arms. There was something about the idea of being touched that made her so nervous.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The ride home was not a comfortable one, her bruised body screaming at every step. She leaned back against Eomer’s chest his arm wrapped around her waist keeping her in place as they cantered through the open country. She made no complaint, wanting to get home and into her own bed, wanting to sleep for days after seeing her children, to hold them. There was no way to meet those wished if she did not ride. Eomer kept his cloak wrapped over her shoulders, seeing that it was something small that seemed to comfort her.</p><p>When they finally made it back on the second day, she felt a little more like herself, but she could barely seem to show it.</p><p>Seeing Theowen was the most comforting moment, as she came running to her, tearing free from Eowyn’s hand, crying out to her as soon as Lothiriel was down from the saddle, “Mama!”</p><p>Lothiriel fell to her knees without a thought, wrapping her arms around Theowen’s tiny body, pressing her face against the small shoulder, her body shaking as she held her daughter. She looked up a moment at Eowyn, holding Eoddis. Standing carefully on her twisted ankle, she hesitated, not sure if she could trust herself to hold the baby. She stooped her head, pressing her brow to the top of Eoddis’ head, kissing her hair, smoothing her trembling fingers over her cheek and looking back at the dark eyes that stared at her, her round face lighting in a smile.</p><p>“A bath is being drawn for you,” Eowyn said, her voice gentle, “how are you faring?”</p><p>Lothiriel swallowed, trying to smile, but failing a little, “I am glad to be home.” She started up the steps to the house, remembering when it had been so difficult, years before when she first came to Edoras, her ankle throbbing a little at the prospect. She knew Eowyn could see the terrifying emptiness in her.</p><p>Theowen grasped at her mother’s hand, staring up at her, “Mama, where is all your hair?”</p><p>Lothiriel looked down, hesitating a moment before she spoke, “the bad men cut it.” She picked Theowen up, trying not to feel ashamed as the little girl looked at her, a little finger touching the bruises on her face. Theowen leaned forward and kissed her mother’s cheek, nestling her face against the shoulder.</p><p>“Can you manage?” Eomer’s hand at the small of her back was gentle.</p><p>“The people can see me,” Lothiriel said quietly, setting Theowen carefully down, taking his arm for support, “I must appear strong in their eyes.”</p><p>Eomer’s jaw tightened, his hand covered hers.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>There were people around her, wanting to help, but she felt closed in between the women hovering, or helping her wash. There was a scream in her throat, and she could not let it out, fearing that if she alienated the people that wanted to help her that she would lose their friendship.</p><p>Heohild combed through her damp hair carefully as she sat at the end of her bed, wrapped in a wool blanket needing to be comfortable in some small way. She needed to crawl under the covers, and to just close her eyes on everything in the world. Why should anyone comb her hair? She had hardly any left on her head at all. She looked like an apprentice boy.</p><p>When she was alone, she took a scarf and threw it over the mirror, not wanting to look at herself. It felt like some childish thing, but she had gone from having so much control over her life, to feeling as if she had none.</p><p>It felt as though there were still rough hands on her arms, dragging her along, even after she had scrubbed at her skin with a brush. She had only been in captivity for a week, but it was as if she had been in the hands of her enemies for so much longer than that. The kidnapping had been made all the worse for the confinement, and she wondered if her captors had known how much she hated being retrained, or small spaces, or if it had been by some dark chance that she had been held in the very way that she feared.</p><p>The last day in the cart, she had almost wondered if anyone was coming to save her at all, and not knowing what the plan was for her if she was handed over to Almod, she had reconciled herself to the possibility of death. Now having survived, she was of course relieved, but every day, it felt as if she was more and more uncertain of how to keep moving, and to keep being alive.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Theowen ran along the corridor to her parent’s room, Saeburh at her heels, determined to climb in bed with her mother. She hadn’t seen much of her mother in the days since she had come home, and she understood that Mama was tired, because her Papa and her Aunt had sat down with her soon after the return to explain to her, that Mama needed time to rest, that she was tired because she had been away from home for so long, and that the bad men had been very mean to her. She sat in the nursery with them, and had listened, looking between them all, not sure how to tell them that she understood, but that she wanted to help.</p><p>Papa came out of the room, smiling down at her, “Not today, dear.”</p><p>Her shoulders squared at little, her foot stomping, “I want to see Mama.”</p><p>“I know,” Papa crouched down in front of her, leveling his eyes with hers as best as he could manage, “She is not feeling well.”</p><p>She could see how sad he was, and she looked at him, “Maybe, I will make her feel better?”</p><p>He smiled at her a little sadly, “Well, what if I play with you, instead?”</p><p>“Alright,” she said, letting Papa pick her up, and carry her back to the nursery, looking over his shoulder at the door.</p><p>It had been a good day, she knew it had, but she wanted to tell her mother that she loved her, and that she wanted her to feel better, and show her the drawings she had done, Mama always liked her pictures.</p><p>Everyone kept telling her that her mother needed to rest, and she knew that they were right, but she felt more and more as if the reason was not enough.</p><p>There had to be something that she could do to help.</p><p>Being left alone to take her nap, Theowen got out of her little bed and went to Gleolith’s sewing box and found the little shears that she used to cut threads when she mended of embroidered. She held them carefully, having been told that she was not meant to touch them, because they were sharp, and she might hurt herself on them. Climbing up to look in the metal mirror that hung over the dresser, she cut her hair carefully as any toddler could, putting the bits of her hair on the little table.</p><p>When her governess came in to check on her, Gleolith’s eyes widened, “Oh!”</p><p>“Now, I look like Mama!” Theowen beamed up at her.</p><p>“You certainly do,” Gleolith smiled, the line of her mouth a little hard as she held back the scream that was fighting to free itself from her lungs, “You have all these little hairs on your face. I will get some water brought up, so that we can clean those up.”</p><p>The governess ran as quickly as she could to find the King, to warn him of what the princess had done.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Eomer sat by Lothiriel’s prone form, smoothing a hand over her hip, “Theowen did something today.”</p><p>Lothiriel stared ahead of her for a moment before looking at him, “What did she do?”</p><p>“She cut her hair with some sewing sheers,” he winced as his wife sat up staring at him.</p><p>“How? Why?”</p><p>“I think that she wanted to look like her mother,” he said, the words coming out slowly.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“She misses you.”</p><p>Lothiriel lay back down, pulling the covers over her shoulder.</p><p>“It might be that she feels as though she might want to have some closeness to you, just now,” Eomer said, “it has been hard for her, these last days.”</p><p>“And I am failing as a mother?” She snapped, not looking at him.</p><p>“That is not what I said, nor is it what I think, and you know that,” Eomer did his best to keep his voice calm, not wanting to fight with her, “I think that she is a child, and sometimes children do things such as this.”</p><p>“Was she not watched, then?”</p><p>“She was meant to be taking her nap.”</p><p>“And she was left alone with sheers?”</p><p>Eomer let out a low breath, closing his eyes, “I am only telling you so that you will not be surprised by it.”</p><p>She burrowed further under the covers.</p><p>“Will you come to supper?” he asked, waiting for a reply, waiting for any sound to come from her for what felt like an interminable length of time. He was on the point of begging but did not want to make Lothiriel feel any worse than he seemed already to have done, “I will have them bring a tray for you.”</p><p>“I am not hungry.”</p><p>“You must eat something.” It was the silence that hurt more than anything, though he knew it had nothing to do with him. She did not want to speak, and he did his best to respect that, but she recoiled from him as if she feared some further terror at his hands, “Love, you will need to get out of bed eventually.”</p><p>“I know,” her voice was so small, “and I shall do, but I am currently tired.”</p><p>It had been three days since she had left her room, or their bed as far as he knew. He woke in the morning, and when he returned, she did not seem to have moved at all.</p><p>“Thiriel,” he said quietly, reaching out to smooth his hand over the bit of her hair that stuck out from the top of the covers, “my love, I am concerned for you.”</p><p>“I love you, but will you leave me alone, please?” she asked, peering out at him.</p><p>He kissed her cheek, and left the bed, wanting to stay by her side, wanting to hold her, to assure her that he loved her, and he wanted to help her, but she still recoiled a little from his embrace. He did his best not to show how much it hurt him, knowing that it was not her intention.</p><p>He went from the room and saw Theowen standing there, as she had done the last three days, a hopeful look on her little face. He picked her up and kissed the top of her head as she fussed quietly, one of her hands reaching back, the other swatting at him.</p><p>Lady Baldgwyn stood by for instruction, and made up a plate for the Queen, smiling a little as she did. She had brought a few meals already into the Royal Bedchamber and had so far taken the trays away almost untouched. She understood as everyone else did, that Lothiriel needed time to come back to herself, and to heal.</p><p>“Is there anything that I can do, my lady?” Baldgwyn asked quietly, knowing that there was nothing. She had made the mistake of pulling back the curtains to let in some light, and frowned as Lothiriel burrowed under the covers, hiding herself under the blankets and covers.</p><p>Baldgwyn was personally of the opinion that there was little that fresh air and walking could not cure and had already implemented such a regimen when Lothiriel first came to Rohan, all those years before. But now she was Queen, and she could not be guilted or ordered to do anything that she had not considered or taken on by her own will.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>It had been a point of pride that Theowen could sneak away from the people that were minding her, and that to her mind, she might know the entirety of Meduseld better than anyone. It did not matter to her that she had only once been in the lower levels of the hall, and that being when she had hurt herself when she had climbed up on the cabinets in her room and had fallen.</p><p>She scooped up one of her dolls and tugged on Saeburh’s collar to tell her to come with her as they snuck to the room that her mother had not left in days. She could just reach the latch on the door, opening it quietly. It was almost midday, but it was so dark in her parent’s bedchamber, and she felt a quick pang of fear in the room. She thought that she was a brave girl, but she usually was allowed to keep a little lantern lit in her room until she fell asleep, at which point someone would extinguish it.</p><p>“Mama?” she called in a low voice, her hand grasping at the thick wooden door.</p><p>There was a slow movement in the bed, and Theowen’s heart fluttered a little in excitement, her little feet pattering away on the floor as she hurried over, overcoming her fear, but knowing as everyone did that beds were safer that the rest of dark rooms.</p><p>She climbed up in the bed, patting her hand on the covers over Lothiriel’s legs, “Mama.”</p><p>The pale face in the dark turned slowly as Mama sat up a little to look at her.</p><p>Theowen crawled over her mother’s body, to wrap her arms around her neck, “I came to see you! But you can’t tell anyone.”</p><p>“Why not?” the voice was her mother’s, but it did not sound quite like the happy woman she knew.</p><p>“Papa says you need to rest,” Theowen said, “and I know that you are sad, so I brought Hawen to keep you company.” She held her doll out to Mama, “and you can have Sae, if you want.”</p><p>The look on her mother’s face was so sad, even as she smiled, “Thank you, but I am alright.”</p><p>“Sae, and my toys make me happy when I am sad, so they should help you, too.”</p><p>Mama’s arms wrapped around her, holding her. She felt her mother’s breath on her neck, and she knew Mama was trying not to cry, so she rubbed her hand over her hair.</p><p>“There, there,” Theowen said, because people said that to her when she cried, her voice cheerful, “there, there, Mama. It is alright.”</p><p>“I am sorry,” Mama said, looking at her.</p><p>Theowen wiped the tears away with the soft palm of her hand, not knowing why Mama was apologizing, but she smiled, “Are you still tired?”</p><p>“A little.”</p><p>“Then we can take a nap! Then you might not be so tired!”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel held Theowen against her chest, Saeburh having somehow by the charming nature of puppies convinced the Queen to bring her up in the bed, nuzzled next to them. She combed her fingers gently through the raggedly cut hair, feeling as though she was a failure as a mother. Every feeling of inadequacy that had been drowning her the last few days deepened as she looked back at her daughter. She had not been able to produce enough milk to feed Eoddis, even if she had been able to pull herself out of bed to do so. A wet nurse had been brought on to feed Eoddis when she was… indisposed.</p><p>“I cut my hair,” Theowen said, sounding proud, and sitting up to fluff her hair with her hands, “and now I look like you!”</p><p>“Why would you want to?”</p><p>“Because you are beautiful!” That little grinning face broke Lothiriel’s heart a little, and Lothiriel touched Theowen’s face, moving a little to make space for Theowen to crawl under the covers, and cuddle against her mother’s chest, her round cheek pressing against her collarbone. The little hands clung to her nightgown, wanting to be close to her, “Will you come play with me tomorrow? I have a new doll, and Papa does not do the voices right.”</p><p>Smoothing a hand over her daughter’s back, Lothiriel smiled, “Alright.”</p><p>“But if you are tired, we can play later,” Theowen sounded so hopeful.</p><p>Her daughter was prone to wallowing, and having been given access to her parent’s bed, she was not content to lay quietly, though she froze when the door opened, her eyes widening at her father.</p><p>Eomer looked at Theowen, his brow raised a little, “Everyone had been looking for you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, doing his best not to look between his daughter and his wife, a little nervous.</p><p>Theowen pulled that look with her wide eyes and the lower lip jutted out, look pitiful at the idea of being scolded.</p><p>“She is helping me,” Lothiriel said, almost sounding like herself again, her hand smoothing over her daughter’s hair, “It is alright.”</p><p>He walked slowly over to sit by them, “then I will not tell Eoddis that you have conspired to spend time with your mother and left her out of this.”</p><p>“She’s too heavy,” Theowen said, getting to her feet and climbed over the covers</p><p>Lothiriel let out a low breathy chuckle, sitting up with some effort, doing her best to support Theowen’s weight as she trod across the bedding. She looked at Eomer, still feeling so tired, “Will you open the curtains, please?”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>The next few days, Lothiriel made an effort to resume her duties, and to be more of herself, hard as it was, and as much as she wanted to climb back into the safety of her bed. The bruises on her face yellowed and had begun to heal, and now she sat at the high table with her family, doing her best to smile and to try to be the way that she had before.</p><p>She knew that the darkness had to leave her shoulders in time, and she knew that it was hard on her family that she was struggling to come back into herself, and that they understood. The hardest part was the pity that she could see in everyone’s faces as they looked at her, smiling through their gratitude that such a thing had not happened to them, and that they did not seem to know how to speak to her, though she hardly knew how to speak to anyone either. It was a small blessing that there was no one else in the hall that evening.</p><p>Eomer reached over and held her hand as he spoke with Faramir and Eowyn, not thinking, just acting as he ever had, as they laughed about something he had said.</p><p>She hadn’t been paying attention to their conversation, smoothing her free hand over Theowen’s head, holding her, and feeling insulated in the family around her. Her father, her brothers and King Elessar had returned to Gondor, soon after they had escorted her home, giving her well wishes, but needing to take the word of her safety home and to tend to their own affairs.</p><p>She had not wanted to let Theowen or Eoddis out of her sight since she had come out of the bed, almost wanting to make up for the days that she had been away from them. This had so far pleased Theowen who clung at her mother’s skirts, and Eoddis seemed happy enough to see her mother, but it still felt a little strange that Lothiriel was still not quite able to feed her.</p><p>“Mama,” Theowen said, a little irritated, tugging on Lothiriel’s sleeve.</p><p>“Yes, darling?” Lothiriel came back into herself, trying to focus on what Theowen was saying, telling her about her new favorite game, which involved putting things on Eomer’s head and seeing it he could keep them in place, and her stern assurances that it was the funniest thing that could ever be contrived. She rested back against her mother’s chest and telling her about everything that was happening in their lives the last few days, moving her doll’s arms as she talked.</p><p>Lothiriel did her best to pay attention to everything that Theowen was saying and to reply accordingly. She was actually smiling, feeling a little more as if she was herself again on some level, and made a face at her daughter and was rewarded with a giggle, and her little hand reaching up, to cover Lothiriel’s mouth. She felt Eomer’s eyes on her and she turned her head to look at him, smiling a little. His lips quirked a little, taking her hand again and giving it a little squeeze. He pulled his hand to her lips gently as soon as Theowen scrambled down from her lap to run off after Elboron.</p><p>“Should we be concerned?” Eowyn gestured after their children.</p><p>“Absolutely,” Lothiriel smiled, leaning a little closer to Eomer, her elbow resting on the arm of the chair, “She has been getting away from her governess of late.”</p><p>Faramir shook his head smirking a little and refilling their chalices with wine, “At least you do not claim that you have no idea of where she got her wild nature.”</p><p>“I am not certain what you mean.”</p><p>“I seem to remember a seven-year old stealing all of the family jewels because of a dare,” Faramir said.</p><p>“I put them back!” Lothiriel replied exasperated.</p><p>“After you hid them under your bed for over a week for your father set the punishment of death on those who he thought robbed the palace!”</p><p>“Well, I was, am, and always have been rather attached to my head,” Lothiriel settled back in her chair, taking another drink of wine. The warmth of the wine filling her with a sense of calm that she hadn’t had in weeks.</p><p>Eomer watched her, a little pleased that she was speaking, and joking, and doing his best not to be concerned at the amount of wine she was pouring into her mouth. The warm flush was coming over her cheeks the more she drank, and she did look pretty. He wondered if he should tell her so, not now in front of people.</p><p>“There is a matter I had hoped to discuss with you,” Eowyn said carefully, “if you can manage not to gloat.”</p><p>Lothiriel raised a brow, refilling her cup.</p><p>“Perhaps you were right in your suspicions. Theowen might have some gift or other and seems to know things that she could not possibly.”</p><p>“Such as?” Lothiriel asked</p><p>“She will not bear speaking of it much, or any questioning, but she knew when you were safe,” Faramir said, carefully, “and other things besides.”</p><p>She said nothing, but Lothiriel pursed her lips in a smirk, taking another drink, thinking.</p><p>“It might not last, though,” Faramir cautioned, speaking more to Eomer who had already been told of this, but who still seemed concerned that the ability to tell the future would mark his daughter out for a life of tragedy. “Some members of Imrahil’s family had such precognitive abilities in their youth, and then lost them as they grew.”</p><p>“And one of Denethor’s sons if I recall maintained a sliver of such a thing,” Lothiriel said levelly, quirking a brow at him.</p><p>Her cousin shot her a quick look, but said nothing else, being distracted as the rest of them by the sound of giggling screams as Theowen chased Elboron with a wooden sword, swinging it over her head with abandon, neither of them having thought that she would do much harm if she cracked her cousin over the head with it.</p><p>Eomer picked up Theowen to tuck her in, and smoothed a hand over her hair, kissing the top of Lothiriel’s head before he left the table, Elboron’s governess taking his hand and leading him along to his parent’s chambers, where he had insisted on sleeping.</p><p>Dressing Theowen for bed, Eomer spoke in a teasingly stern voice, “You were not meant to be bothering your mother.”</p><p>The little girl looked at him nervously, “I know, but Mama came to supper, so you cannot be cross with me.”</p><p>“Oh? Can I not?” Eomer asked, doing his best to maintain his look of disapproval, even as he felt it wavering.</p><p>“No,” Theowen set her feet, and put her tiny fists on her hips.</p><p>“Well, I suppose that settles it then,” Eomer shook his head, pulling back the covers and tucking her in.</p><p>“I want a story.”</p><p>“A story?” Eomer asked as if this was the most ridiculous request he had ever heard.</p><p>“Yes,” Theowen grinned back.</p><p>Eomer sat on the edge of the bed, “Is that how we ask for things?”</p><p>“Please, can I have a story?”</p><p>He narrowed his eyes for a long moment before softening, “Alright. Once upon a time, there was a princess, and she ruled over a kingdom full of magic…”</p><p>Theowen nestled in the bed, pulling her covers up to her chin.</p><p>When her eyes started to droop, Eomer smiled, and kissed the top of her head, and picked her doll up from the floor, tucking it under the covers next to her. He peered in at Eoddis, who still being too young to have known what had been happening had slept well through the nights, and part of the afternoons. He was certain that Mistress Gleolith was not entirely pleased at having to share her room with the wet nurse, but she made no outward complaints as far as he had heard, for she had been attached to the girls, and was dedicated to their care.</p><p>The infant slept, looking more peaceful than anyone else in the family had, even Theowen. Eoddis’ tiny hands curled into fists by her face as she slept, her eyes moving behind their lids, and Eomer wondered at the dreams of babes. He smoothed a finger over her cheek over the soft cheek, not wanting to risk giving her a kiss and waking her, knowing that the wrath of all of the women in the house was not a terror that he had the strength for.</p><p>He snuck from the room quietly and rejoined his family in the hall, “Eight o’clock and all is quiet,” he teased in his steady voice, stopping in his pace as he caught sight of the look on Lothiriel’s face.</p><p>“What does she think that it means?” she asked.</p><p>Eomer listened coming to sit back by his wife, doing his very best to catch up with the conversation that he had missed.</p><p>“She will not say,” Eowyn said, “I did my best to ask her when Gleolith told me, but she threw a tantrum when she decided that I had asked too many times.”</p><p>Lothiriel looked back at Eomer, “have you heard about this?”</p><p>“I cannot say,” Eomer replied, “What is the matter?”</p><p>“Theowen told her governess that she had seen Meduseld crumble and fall, and she will not tell anyone what she thinks it means,” Faramir explained, “It could be nothing. Perhaps only that the family was going to be separated for a time.”</p><p>Eomer had winced, and gritted his teeth, “No.” His thumb tapped on the table with a quiet fervor.</p><p>“No?” Lothiriel asked, fearing some terror that she had missed in her depression.</p><p>“I told my council that there will be no special treatment for Almod when it comes to the punishment for his crimes against my family, and Lord Gleothain counseled patience and clemency.”</p><p>Lothiriel’s eye all but twitched at the words, “And what has happened, then?”</p><p>“I thanked him for his service, and relieved him of his place on my council, and I have been considering if I might do well to now dissolve the council all together and reform it with men that I can better trust.” He said it with the confidence of a man that knew the rightness of his action, but his gaze held Lothiriel’s asking her for advice.</p><p>She took another long drink, weighing the options, “It might make enemies of your lords,” she said after a long moment, “Is there a set number that your advisors could be?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Then it might be better to bring on a few that you are certain of, and in time be able to dismiss anyone that you are not sure that you can trust. Gradual action might work better than so direct an attack as you would think,” she chewed the inside of her cheek, “Give me some time to think, and I will try to come up with a solution.”</p><p>He could see her calculation actions and moving expectations around in her mind like a chess game, and he did his best not to smile too hard at the determined furrow of her brow. He smoothed a hand over her back quietly, “Do you mean to say that I am too rash to make my own decisions?”</p><p>She turned her head to give him a look, silently telling him that she did not think that question merited an answer, the corner of her mouth quirked just a little at the feigned dismay on his face. Her shoulder nudged his, and she settled back, giving Eowyn a look that made them both laugh a little.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel flung the chamber door open a little too hard, and stumbled to catch it, feeling as if she was not able to control her body. She undid the laces under her arm with staggering fingers before pulling her dress off over her head and dropping in on the floor, and flopping on the covers, her arms thrown out. She turned over to look at Eomer, smiling as he slid the latch on the door, and kicked his own shoes off and pouring a cup of water. He stooped to take Lothiriel’s shoes off, smiling a little to himself.</p><p>“You are a good man,” she said, sitting up to look at him, her fingers finding his hair, her voice a little loud. He looked up at her, smiling back at her. He felt a simple relief that she seemed almost to be more like herself, and he tried not to think on how much wine she had drank, doing his best to enjoy being with her, and that she was talking at all.</p><p>He looked up at her, and for a moment felt as if nothing had changed. He was looking at his wife, flushed with drink, and smiling back at him. The mild sorrow that he could see in her eyes brought him back into the realities of their present conditions, realities that he wanted to wash away. He reached up and brushed his fingers over the curve of her cheek, standing and studying her. Stooping a little, and rested in unoccupied hand by her side, he lowered his head and kissed her. He loved her, and he knew that her own feeling had not changed, but he felt weak in that moment, needing some assurance from his wife. Her lips came back on his with a sloppy intensity that he recognized, and he withdrew from her, gently taking her hands from his shoulders where they had been pulling at him.</p><p>The crestfallen look on her face was a hard thing for him to see, “Do you not want me?”</p><p>“I do,” he sat next to her, keeping her hand in his, stroking his thumb over her hand “I am tired, love, it has been a long day.”</p><p>“That has hardly ever been an excuse before,” she said.</p><p>He fell silent, thinking how to say what he meant to tell her without offending her. Her temper had been short since her rescue, and though he understood, he had no desire to have her rage at him, or else cry.</p><p>“You have been at the wine, and I do not want you to wake and regret anything,” he said.</p><p>“And you think I would regret lying with my husband?” she almost laughed.</p><p> His face felt hot at her direct question, and he stared at the pattern of the woodgrain of their floorboards, “I grant you that perhaps I am overly concerned. I only mean to be sensitive to anything you might be feeling at present.”</p><p>Her eyes seemed to bore into the side of his face, her confusion at his rejection. She pulled her hand free of his and wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing her face against his shoulder, relaxing a little as his arms wrapped around her. He had hardly held her the last days, and he didn’t loosen his hold on her even as she started crying. When her tears finally subsided, and she had finished drying her face, he pulled the covers back and climbed into bed next to her, pulling her back into his arms. He trailed his fingers over her back in the quiet dark just wanting her to feel better.</p><p>“Should I go back to Dol Amroth?” she asked, her voice quavering a little.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“I do not mean forever. But I wonder if I am going to go on feeling as though I have made my own misery.”</p><p>“You would want to run from everything?” Eomer asked.</p><p>“I am not saying that I want to run, but maybe I could go away until I am better. Until I am more like myself.”</p><p>“I do not want you to go,” he replied quietly, “and I would not wish to be parted from our daughters.”</p><p>Lothiriel hesitated, almost wanting to say that she could leave Theowen and Eoddis in Edoras, but she held her tongue, knowing that she would not be able to do so. She rolled onto her back, looking up at the ceiling beams, as much of them as she could see in the darkness, “I am trying to be the woman you married, but what if this malaise lasts forever?”</p><p>“I did not imagine that we would immediately fall back into our lives as they had been. It has been hard to see you suffer, and the worst for I have not been able to find a way to help you, and that I feel responsible.”</p><p>She turned her head to look at him, confused and angry.</p><p>“I could have done more. I could have ridden faster. I could have stayed in Dol Amroth and ensured your safety.”</p><p>“I suppose that is the problem with power. We have obligations beyond ourselves,” she said, smiling mirthlessly, “there was nothing else that you could have done. I should have listened to my daughter or taken the matter more seriously.” She felt his fingers ghosting over her cheek, and she clasped her hand over his, “Maybe we should stop blaming ourselves for things beyond our control?”</p><p>His thumb moved against her cheek, “You first.”</p><p>“No, you,” she smiled.</p><p>He leaned closer and kissed her, “Everything will be alright in time.”</p><p>She knew he was right, but saying the words, and telling them what it was they should be doing was easier than the reality of it, and the weight of that truth pushed at the back of her mind against her bidding. But they would still try, she knew. There was no way to move, save forward, and they would do so together.</p>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They had discussed whether or not Lothiriel should perhaps wear a wimple under her crown, but in truth, Lothiriel wanted Almod to see what was left of the damage that had been done, as much as she wanted to do her best to change nothing about the way that she presented herself. It had given Lothiriel an idea that she could see might be based in some small part from pettiness. If he wanted to claim that she was not their queen, then she would show how much she was.</p><p>She dug through the trunk of the gowns that she kept for trips South, the ones that she still had, for Eomer’s men were still trying to track down her clothes that had been sold. It was a task that Eomer had set with all seriousness, and which amused her more than it should have to think of his soldiers trampling through the country trying to buy back her frocks.</p><p>She dug through the silks and fine materials, looking for something right when she came across the cream and gold gown at the bottom of a trunk. She had worn the dress only a handful of times, and not since her wedding. Pulling the delicate dress out, and holding it up, she wondered if it would still fit. She held it up to her body, knowing that having given birth to two children, she might need a set of stays, even if Eomer assured her that her figure had not changed as much as she thought. It was her opinion that he was irritated that she had lost most of the weight from the pregnancy before he could pinch at her and had put the question to him. He had denied it arduously but had looked a little embarrassed at the question.</p><p>Lothiriel looked at Heohild, her brow raised, “Would it be too much, do you think?”</p><p>“It is hardly for me to say,” Heohild looked thoughtful, “It might put the point out that you mean to remarry the Riddermark, though the ruling in this instance might be a foregone conclusion, and perhaps it might be better not to mix such memories, my lady.”</p><p>The Queen let out a small noise of agreement, and she refolded the dress, and set it aside carefully, smoothing her hand over the fabric. She found a white gown with silver stitching and beading over the neckline and the hem, and held it out to look it over, “This one, I think, with the green velvet,” she smoothed a hand over a long green sleeveless over-gown, the train would drag on the floor behind her, and pool at her feet. She could see the way that she would look in her mind and liked the image.</p><p>She had picked out pieces from her jewel box carefully and took a heavy emerald necklace out and held the gems out to look at the way the light caught in the green of the stones. Eomer had given her the necklace for no reason that she had been able to find, weeks after she had told him that she was pregnant with Eoddis. He had looked her over, with a strange look and said that something was missing, before slipping the necklace into place and fixed it in the back, watching her eyes widen, and her fingers fly up to touch the stones where they lay cool against her skin.</p><p>She smiled thinking on how happy she had been.</p><p>How many people could say that they had had four years of almost uninterrupted bliss? While she knew logically that she would be happy again, there was part of her that wondered if she would ever reclaim that thoughtless contentment. Perhaps it was part of some divine plan, as all things had to be, to make her better appreciate the blessings that she had in her life.</p><p>She twisted the gold band on her finger as she did whenever her mind was too occupied to still itself.</p><p>Eomer’s council was splintered and fractured. Even taking her advice to simply bring on more trusted bodies, there had been some matter of infighting over the matter, and whispers that if Eomer King did not think to trust his advisors, might they not all withdraw to their own houses where they would be better appreciated. In the strangest turn of events, Lord Fulgar had been doing his best to keep the peace and had spoken openly in her honor, and of their duty to their King. He went so far as to remind the lot of them that they had faced worse under the eye of Wormtongue. Of course, she thought that it might have been out of a need to protect his own neck, but it had seemed genuine, and more than that, it was needed.</p><p>She had pressed Theowen a little more than was likely wise, seeking some confirmation of Eomer’s interpretation of her premonition, but that had resulted in a temper tantrum. Lothiriel turned a careful eye over every other matter that she had thought might be of such a concern but found nothing. Their stores were full due to a good harvest, the unrest in the land was put down, and their trade relations were giving a good yield, which were then reinvested. She was even concerned that it might have been a little more literal, and had the stewards inspect each square inch of Meduseld, which had turned out to serve little other purpose but to have them assure her that the hall was strong and sturdy.</p><p>Eomer had watched her pore over her ledgers looking for something amiss, and he said nothing. In truth, she thought that he was likely correct, even if she did not want to admit it. Their daughter had always come running for her mother when she was upset, but Lothiriel knew that there was some clear understanding between Theowen and Eomer. They seemed to think rather similarly, and he always seemed to understand what it was she thought or wanted without needing to ask too many questions, as if there was some connection between their minds, and she loved that.</p><p>He had in the time that Lothiriel was unable to fulfill her obligations to her family, done his best to fill the void there, stopping short fashioning a means by which to carry Eoddis as Lothiriel had. He had no hesitance in showing his care for their children openly, spending as much time as he could with them. In her opinion, Eomer would be happy to give up his life and his duties and dedicate himself entirely to fatherhood. If he was able to surrender the weight of duty, she knew he would happily pack his little family up and return to Aldburg and live out his days in contentment, but he had his honor and his responsibilities that he could never put aside.</p><p>Lothiriel Queen stood, inspecting her reflection, and praised Heohild for managing her hair as well as she had. She looked every in every part a queen, regal and beyond touch. Her garb was both Gondorian and Rohirric, and she hoped that that would make the point that she had been making for years. She turned her head as the door opened, and Eomer gave her a slow look, full of approval and anxiety.</p><p>He held the case with their crowns, as it was one of the few things that he was traditional about, that no one else should ever touch the marks of their sovereignty.</p><p>“Are you ready?” his voice was low as he asked the question.</p><p>“No,” she admitted, taking his arm carefully, looking up into his face, letting him see her reluctance to face her enemy, and the hope that he would not think her weak, “but I doubt I ever truly would be.”</p><p>Lifting the hand from his arm, he kissed her knuckle, “If you would rather not have a part in this, I would understand.”</p><p>“If I do not, who will stop you from beating Almod to death?” she almost smiled at him.</p><p>“You would think to stop me if I put my will to such a thing?” he asked, smirking a little at the idea of Lothiriel attempting to retrain him, remembering her cousin’s similar attempt when Eoddis was born.</p><p>There was nothing that he wanted as much as to shield her from this ordeal, and everything that had happened to her. He had wanted to protect her, and he had failed her. His fingers loosened a few curls from the carefully twisted styling that Heohild had wrought.</p><p>She swatted his hand away, playfully, “Stop that,” she said, knowing that he would not. He had always done that, preferring some imperfection in her, as if that served to make her more lovely. She blushed a little under his gaze, and was a little annoyed that she still did, and dropped her eyes from his, and adjusting his crooked cloak pins and doing her best to set them right. Her lips quirked in a small smile as her nimble fingers worked.</p><p>“Whatever would I do without you?” he asked, his voice soft.</p><p>“Wear your clothes unsuitably for your station,” she retorted quietly.</p><p>“Of course,” he kissed her brow and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her against his chest, his hand holding the back of her head.</p><p>“You are going to muss me,” she said against the velvet of his tunic, “I no longer have the luxury of enough hair to think it will stay without care.”</p><p>He tilted her chin up to make her look at him. It felt as if nothing had ever happened to change them, and he wanted to hold that feeling, never having realized before that this joy would feel so singular, something to be remarked on. He longed for the day when their lives would not be divided between before and after.</p><p>Before, he had thought that the war would be the great terror of their lives.</p><p>After, he feared that the risk of treachery would never truly be snuffed out, no matter what he did.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>She folded her hands daintily in her lap, doing her best to maintain her mask of indifference, her brow raised a little as she looked at Almod, no longer a lord, but a prisoner of the King. He looked all the part of one, his clothes dirty and worn as he stood before the thrones, his chin raised indignantly as the charge was read out.</p><p>“What say you?” Eomer’s voice echoed powerfully, a deep roar of barely contained rage.</p><p>“That I regret none of my actions, having meant only to act in the best interest of this country,” Almod replied.</p><p>From the corner of her eye, Lothiriel could see Eomer’s chest heaving with his rage. She wondered if he had been holding that fury in check, burying it away out of her sight, not wanting to let her see how this had wrecked his soul. Somehow she had known he must have, but the thought had never been fully formed enough in her mind for her to recognize it.</p><p>“You think that harming your King’s family would benefit Rohan?” Lothiriel asked, making it clear how ludicrous this explanation was. What was the purpose, if she spoke the truth, of offering a reward for her? Unless he had thought that it would be offered as a reward for her safety, she doubted anyone would take such an action as being borne of concern for her.</p><p>“My only regret was that you were so roughly treated. That was not my intent,” Almod’s eyes would not meet hers, staring over her head.</p><p>“What was the intent, then?” Eomer demanded.</p><p>“That having separated you both, you would see that this union has only done harm to the morale of the country,” Almod swallowed, speaking directly to Eomer, “I had feared that under such influences as hers, that you would be too much in action alike to your grandfather. He had too much love for another country and did not see the beauty of his own.”</p><p>Lothiriel’s hand went to the arms of her throne, ready to grasp Eomer’s arm if he leapt from his seat.</p><p>“Perhaps you might have done well to speak with me, if you had such concerns as this, rather than sending Her Majesty letters and men to abduct her and my daughters. I could have certainly assuaged such fear as that.”</p><p>“I heard with my own ears your men speak of gagging my daughter,” Lothiriel said, keeping her voice level, “the inference that my children were in danger should be considered more heinous even than what was in truth was done to me.”</p><p>“And I say again, that I did not wish any harm to come to you!” Almod planted his feet.</p><p>“But you sent the men, did you not?” Eomer asked.</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>“Did you know them before that time?”</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>“And as such, being their lord, you have the responsibility of ensuring that any man that you would send on any errand, be it to offering escort, or fetching water, would have decency and honor. Yes or no?”</p><p>Almod took a deep breath, “Yes. But by my honor, I told Guthred to ensure that no harm to Your Majesty, or to the princesses.”</p><p>“You are not here for what your intentions were, but for what did happen,” Lothiriel said, doing her best to be the calming influence, even as she did not believe him, “You did plan the abduction, did you not?”</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>“What excuse do you have for it?” Eomer asked, his hand tightening, “And do not offer that same weak explanation that you have done.”</p><p>The prisoner blanched a little, not sure what else he might say, whether there was another reason, or if he had practiced the excuse through enough times that he could not think of a better reason, or one that would at least not be an open insult. His monarchs both stared at him with a heated gaze from the King, and a level look of disappointment from the Queen, and he remembered his place, straightening his stance.</p><p>“Speak,” Eomer commanded, that single word a loud noise that filled the hall.</p><p>“Why?” Almod asked, “There are no words that can save my head.”</p><p>“Do I not deserve to know why this happened?” Lothiriel asked, surprised that she had voiced the thought.</p><p>“Your comfort is no longer my concern. I do not serve you, Lothiriel Queen. I never have. I serve King and country.”</p><p>“And as Queen, am I not a citizen of this country? You were present at our wedding. You know that I forsook the lands of my birth.”</p><p>“Words,” Almod sighed, “You do know how to use them, and you have done. When first you came, your help was appreciated. But in the years since that time, you have not stopped in you want for power. Do you deny that?”</p><p>“Lothiriel Queen is not on trial,” Eomer said.</p><p>“She ought to be. If you would try me for treason, then that same charge should be leveled on her as well, for her interference in affairs of state.”</p><p>She felt nauseous and cold, her head spinning. The distance to their rooms was not a long one, and she could get away from everything that was happening in her house. This was not her fault, she kept reminding herself silently like a prayer. She scanned her eyes carefully over the hall, noting the unabashed disgust on the faces of every person therein. It was a consolation at least, that no one else blamed her, or else they were so skilled in play-acting that they could all pretend. Her eyes found Lord Fulgar’s face, and she noticed the look of barely concealed repulsion.</p><p>“It is not your place as a wife, even if you are Queen to interfere beyond your place,” Almod went on, his voice having turned venomous as he spoke.</p><p>Eomer’s hand on hers brought her back into herself, the warm comforting assurance that she was not alone that she needed. She had not even realized that her nails were digging into the arm of her throne, her fingers ached with the tension that had set itself through every muscle of her body. A single tear had begun the long, unchecked journey over her cheek.</p><p>“It is not your place, as a Lord of the Riddermark, and even as one of my most trusted advisors, to tell me that I should not ask my wife’s help,” Eomer said, “and even if it were, I would think that you would voice this concern, rather than having men violent abduct my Queen, and my children. Any attack on my family is likewise an attack on me.”</p><p>Almod’s eyes turned back to Eomer, seeming to have remembered that he was on trial for his life, the fire in his eyes dimmed until it went out, “As I said, there is nothing that will change what you will do. These are strange times, when a man who had given his life in service to his country may not have that taken into account.”</p><p>“I will not rule with an eye toward withholding the fitting punishments for crimes based solely on the chance of a man’s birth,” Eomer took his hand from Lothiriel’s, “I find you guilty of the charge on you, having as evidence you own confession. The penalty for abduction, and treason will be death by hanging.”</p><p>Almod’s face changed suddenly at the manner of his execution. Hanging was for thieves and murderers. Even the traitor that had been found on the hunt for the abductors had been given the honor of a quick death in beheading. Noblemen were not hanged. He fell to his knees suddenly, his hands clasped before him, his mouth opening, but the words not coming.</p><p>“Return him to his cell,” Eomer said, standing.</p><p>Lothiriel followed suit, her hands clasping in front of her again as she watched the villain leave by violent hands. He was dragged from the hall, apparently so lost in his shock that he could not move his feet.</p><p>“We will adjourn,” Eomer said, barely waiting for the end of the brief words before he stepped from the dais, Lothiriel following at his heels, her gaze holding the field of green that was his cape. As soon as she closed the door to their rooms, his hands were on her shoulders, “Are you alright?”</p><p>She let out the shaking breath that she had not realized that she was holding, “Yes.”</p><p>“Do not lie to me,” he said, watching her as she went to sit by the hearth.</p><p>“What do you want me to say?” she asked, looking at him, “That it was harder than I had expected? It was.” She rubbed her fingertips against her brow a moment before reaching her hand to him, “Are you? Alright, I mean.”</p><p>“No,” he admitted easily, “I had expected him to deny everything, but to hear his words…”</p><p>She kissed his knuckle, before standing to pour herself some whiskey from the cabinet where they had hidden the decanter as if it was some stolen goods, her hands shaking a little, “He is so full of shit.”</p><p>Eomer smiled a little at her, falling into the seat, “I would take some of that.” He watched her carefully, looking at her, “You look beautiful, love.”</p><p>She shot him a quick, disbelieving look, “certainly.”</p><p>He frowned, taking the cup offered him, and took her hand, pulling her into his lap, resting his head against her shoulder, and did his best to not feel disappointed at her stiffness. He breathed the scent of her perfume, taking comfort in the floral scent. She began to pull from him, and his hand tightened a little on her waist, “Just a moment, please. I need…” he stopped short. He should not speak of his own need, not yet.</p><p>“What, Eomer?” she asked, looking back at him.</p><p>He took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look at her, begging her to understand, to not hate him, or find him so selfish that he needed to hold her, and to feel for another moment that none of this had ever happened. She just looked back at him, searching for some answer in his silence, her own anxiety clear.</p><p>Not for the first time, Eomer felt as he was standing on the ledge of some ravine, far across from her, and that space seemed as if it was filling with everything that he did not say.</p><p>He stroked the back of his fingers over her cheek for a moment, wanting to tell her that he might burn the whole world to keep her safe, that he still felt ashamed that he had left her alone and vulnerable. He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek and released her, leaving her free to stay, or to move from him. She stayed, leaning back, and taking a long drink.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“I do not know how to speak to her,” Eomer admitted, feeling like some green boy that was so tongue tied by the direct gaze of his beloved.</p><p>“Well, first I might admit that I have never been in such a position as you are,” Faramir said, settling back in his chair, “but I grant you that it is difficult, but you must in time find a way to find comfort with each other, and communicate.”</p><p>Eomer had wanted to find help from someone, anyone, but his wife’s cousin was the closest person that might be able to advise him on how to speak to Lothiriel, “I fear she will find me careless.”</p><p>“Why should she?”</p><p>“What else would you think of a man that cannot protect his family, and then bemoans that she might need not wish to remain with him?”</p><p>Faramir stiffened in place, staring at his wife’s brother, “What do you mean by that?”</p><p>“She asked if perhaps she should go back to Dol Amroth for a time, and I know that she did not mean to say that she…”</p><p>Faramir waited for Eomer to finish the thought, not going to speak until his companion did.</p><p>Staring into his cup, Eomer thought hard, “I know she does not mean to leave in truth, but perhaps, if it would bring her some sense of peace, I should allow it.”</p><p>“Do you think that you could allow or forbid Lothiriel to do anything?”</p><p>“No,” Eomer smiled at the thought, and at the dim memory of once in the early days of marriage trying to do so, that event had been so terrible at the time, and now seemed so silly to him, “I only…” he ran a hand over his hair, “I cannot seem to express my thoughts, knowing that they are borne of my own fear, but I want to help her.”</p><p>“Then tell her what you feel,” Faramir said, doing his best not to sound as if he found the obvious solution amusing.</p><p>“I do not want to get into a row,” Eomer admitted, “and she had been given to rage as much as she has to sorrow. She has seemed to have calmed by and large, but I do not wish to reignite any sense of unease in her.”</p><p>“I should never had thought that so mighty a warrior would fear a spat with his wife,” Faramir laughed, “Or would ever be so timid as you seem to have been, by your own admission.”</p><p>There was almost a chuckle, but Eomer’s mind was still occupied, even hearing in those words a measure of truth. Caelon lifted his aged head from the stone of the heaths with a slow gaze that seemed to emanate a sympathy that in days long past would have been given by him lifting his haunches and attempting to sit on his master’s lap. The action would be every bit as awkward as it had ever seemed for anyone to be so blessed by his protection, Caelon never having come to the realization of how large he was. He pawed slowly over and rested his head on Eomer’s knee as he sat.</p><p>“For all the she has ever mocked those that speak directly, Lothiriel needs such people around her,” Faramir’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, “and I would not think to interfere in your marriage, or tell you how you should be, or what you ought to do. But though it may seem as a labor, if you cannot speak to your wife, then why have one?”</p><p>Eomer’s dark eyes turned on the Prince, almost a challenge, as if for a moment Faramir had said that he should cast aside his family.</p><p>“I only mean to tell you that you should not fear her withdrawal, for she well might for a time. But she will certainly come back once her mind has calmed. There might be some feelings that you would share that she might not want to hear, but if you mean to live holding those things back until such a time that you could be assured that she will be more inclined to hear it, there may not be such a time.”</p><p>“Do you not think that to put my own feelings before hers?”</p><p>“I would never say that, but it seems that you would supplant your own needs to the determent of your marriage.”</p><p>Eomer weighed the council of Faramir, still uncertain of his words or of his own right to express his feelings. If he spoke his shame to her, she would only assure him that there was no cause for his feelings in the small voice that had appeared, having only seemed to be used to assuage his concern. That quiet voice did little to console him, realizing only by Faramir’s words that if she were to scoff or tease him, he might take her words as true. She had begun to sound a little more like herself, but in spite of that, he still felt as if she would recoil from him with all of the reticence that would be right.</p><p>“You have given me much to consider,” Eomer admitted, “and I think that perhaps you are right. I will need to think further, but I thank you for your council.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“He holds his tongue?” Eowyn asked, confused by her sister-in-law’s words as they sat together, watching their children run through the grass, screaming their glee.</p><p>Lothiriel’s answer was the pursing of her lips before turning her eyes back to Eoddis’ little face. She stroked her finger over the dimpled knuckle that flailed a little trying to free herself from her containment. She had birthed another fierce little thing, perhaps.</p><p>“I do not think he has ever done so before,” Eowyn went on.</p><p>“I think he means to be kind, but I worry that he will find more comfort in simply saying what he thinks,” Lothiriel said, tracing Theowen and Elboron as they ran through the open field.</p><p>Eowyn’s eyes followed the trail of her friend’s gaze, hesitating as she thought out how to word her thoughts, “We were all gravely concerned for you when you would not leave your bed, and Eomer might have been reminded of our mother.”</p><p>Lothiriel stared at her, startled at the revelation, not having considered that at all. There were no words between them as they settled back into their quiet contemplation. How had she not thought that he might fear that she would slip away like his own mother had, or her aunt. There was enough tendency of fading in their two families, and she felt a sudden pang, hoping that such things would pass their children by, that they would be saved.</p><p>She felt at Eoddis’ nappy, and extricated her from the sling to change her, making noises and faces at the baby even as she struggled not to be held, her tiny legs struggling at the changing hands. Lothiriel tried not to laugh at the look of dismayed disgust on Eowyn’s face, “It is only a baby, you need not fear her so.”</p><p>Eowyn gave a grunting reply of disbelief, “I do not know why you do not have the nurse do that.”</p><p>“I have not yet been able to feed her, and I already feel as if I have failed in her tending, so I ought to do what I can, as her mother.”</p><p>The Princess let out a sigh of disbelief, “Then I would not dare to ask what you think of me.”</p><p>“Things are different in Gondor,” Lothiriel said, “I am not certain, but perhaps I feel that if I can do things that I am so obligated to.”</p><p>“I thought you were meant to be accepting help when you needed it,” Eowyn said, her voice having none of the mirth that Lothiriel expected to find there.</p><p>After a moment, Lothiriel replied, “I know, but it has been hard for me not to.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>She always hated executions, and there had blessedly been few enough of them since she had become Queen of Rohan. It was her duty to be here, she knew it was, but Eomer had assured her that she need not be present. She gently told him that she did not want him to face the day alone. She was in truth more concerned that Theowen would see it. Lothiriel had seen a few hangings, and they never seemed to go as quickly as they should have done.</p><p>Standing by Eomer side, she did her best to keep her gaze unwavering even as the cart was pulled away and the grotesque dance started. There was a strangely rowdy energy, almost celebratory at the execution of the traitor. There was something sickening about it, but she stood firm until Almod stilled and was no more.</p><p>She did not touch her lunch, her stomach still turning over a little at the fresh memory. There was something about the way that Eomer sat, eating stiffly, rigid with contained energy, that made her watch him.</p><p>When he looked at her, his face was grim, as if he hated it all as much as she did. She reached out to him and took his hand.</p><p>“You might make amends with Lord Gleothain,” she said suddenly, “not just yet, but in time.”</p><p>“Why should I?”</p><p>“He was a temperate influence, and I do not think his request was borne of any ill will. He may take his expulsion as a warning and mind his council better, but you should not fill your council entirely with those that would agree with you.”</p><p>“And if I do not want to have him advise me?” Eomer asked, his voice a little heated.</p><p>“Then do not. I am only telling you what I think would be the best course of action. I simply think that picking fights with your lords is not the best action at this time,” Lothiriel said, carefully, the decisive fire back in her eyes, “Especially not in the case of those who are young enough to still have some lust for glory.”</p><p>Eomer’s breath puffed in irritation, “Perhaps, but I will not think on this now,” his eyes darted back to hers quickly, hesitance heavy on his shoulders before he spoke, “I think that we might take some time together tomorrow.”</p><p>She smiled a little, “I would like that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He leaned back to feel the cool spring sun on his face, smiling a little as Lothiriel slid her hand into the crook of his arm, her other holding her skirt. She walked by him the short distance along the shore as they watered their horses. He had asked her to go riding with him through the morning mist and felt himself smile when she agreed to go.</p><p>She lifted his hand in hers gently, and twirled under his arm, her skirts swinging out, a low giggling breath leaving her. Slowing, she looked back up to him, smiling. He dropped a quick kiss against her brow, holding her head gently for a moment before he slid an arm over her shoulder, taking up their casual pace. Her arm wrapped around his waist, her cheek resting against his shoulder.</p><p>“Thank you, for coming out with me,” he said, a finger smoothing over the back of her neck</p><p>“Of course,” Lothiriel smiled up at him, “I think that perhaps we ought to have done this sooner.”</p><p>His fingers found a loose curl, and the wind brushed that lock against his hand as he reached up to touch that stray hair, “I have meant to ask, but feared that you would not wish to.”</p><p>“I have been rather stubborn of late,” she allowed apologetically, her hand reaching for the one on her shoulder and taking hold of it, squeezing his hand, “Thank you for being so patient with me.”</p><p>“I doubt I deserve such gratitude as that,” Eomer said, “or that I have been much help.”</p><p>“You have been such a help! You have given your loving attention to all of us, even if I was not really able to accept or return it.”</p><p>“Perhaps not so much love as I should have, but I should hope that my strength would be a fair alternative. I have been doing my best to carry my fury in myself, for I feared that you would misunderstand it, and think that I have wanted to scream for weeks.”</p><p>She had stopped in her steps, looking up at him, listening and taking in his words, a thoughtful expression on her face which shifted into a mischievous smile as she cast a quick look around, “If you did, not one would likely hear you.”</p><p>“Oh, hush,” Eomer smiled and blushed a little at his earnest words, “I am speaking in earnest.”</p><p>“As am I,” she said, taking a long moment before throwing her head back and yelling out as loud as she could. When she quieted, she looked back at her husband, smiling a little, “It does in truth help a little.”</p><p>“You want me to cry out in the middle of my own land?” he asked, smiling a little, as he considered it.</p><p>She giggled, her hands clasped a moment over her mouth, “It can hardly hurt anything.” She looked at him, expectantly.</p><p>He shook his head, embarrassed at the very idea of it. He was a grown man, a King, and what she was suggesting sounded and had looked in her action like a controlled tantrum, or else as if she were a mad woman.</p><p>Her finger prodded at him, teasingly, “Go on.”</p><p>He let out a loud cry, more a growl than anything. There was something primeval in the sound.</p><p>“Do you feel any better?”</p><p>“A little, perhaps,” he looked back at her, smoothing a hand over his hair, still feeling a little awkward as she grinned up at him. Her smile warmed him through and realized that he had not seen it in some time. He stooped forward and kissed her, his arms encircling her waist and pulled her up a little, and close against his chest.</p><p>Lothiriel slid her arms up over his shoulders and arched against his chest before returning his kiss. “They will all have wondered where we have gone,” she said, a little breathlessly when their lips parted.</p><p>“If we had no children or country, we could run away for a few days,” Eomer teased, “but as we do have both, we will have to return.”</p><p>“My ladies will be waiting. I told them that it would be a short jaunt,” she smiled, letting him lead her along by the hand. She felt replenished in a way that she could not explain, still not fully whole, but in some small part as if she was coming back closer to the person that she had been.</p><p>The wind in her hair felt different and yet the same, a shorter travel through her curls for the shortened length, but the free feeling of it was no so much changed that she dwelt on it as she urged Leofric into a canter, passing Eomer and Firefoot at their leisurely little trot. She heard him behind her, calling out to his stead to not take such an offense without response, and then the hoof beats behind her. The wind caught her laughter and carried it off. She felt honestly alive and free, and more than that. She felt control in some small measure for the first time since leaving Dol Amroth.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>She nestled Eoddis carefully in place to feed her, not sure how to explain the relief of being able to feed her daughter finally.  She was two months old already and had grown so big, turning at sounds, and beginning to smile and coo. She was so adorable, staring up at anyone that came close to her. She was a friendly child so far. Lothiriel said nothing so far, but she was less fussy than her sister had been, unless she was bored.</p><p>Theowen was warming to the role of big sister, but still seemed a little frustrated at not being the center of her parent’s attention but seemed a little more annoyed that Eoddis was still too small to play with her. It had seemed that she had in getting a little sister would be that she was getting a new playmate, fully formed and ready to aid her in her devices of mischief making, in spite of the fact that she had seen other babies before. She had started doing her best to share her toys with her little sister but did have to be convinced that tossing her wooden blocks into the cradle was not a good idea.</p><p>It had seemed to have almost given Eomer a heart attack for the quickness with which he had snatched Theowen up and carrying her from the wooden toys to explain to her that she could do some damage to Eoddis. Lothiriel had begun to stand to rectify the situation before Eomer had intercepted. She could almost see the thoughts swirling behind his eyes as he tried to decide which of the children he ought to see to first, bounding between Theowen and Eoddis, checking the baby for damage and doing his best to ensure that he had not been too stern with Theowen.</p><p>Lothiriel quietly stood and looked into the cradle and saw Eoddis gumming at the block that had been thrown into her space. She was still too young to be teething yet, but she looked perfectly content with her current lot in life. She looked back to where her husband was doing his best to explain why blunt force trauma was bad as Theowen’s chin began to quiver.</p><p>Eomer’s face fell and he picked up their crying child to assure her that she had not accidentally murdered her little sister. He shot Lothiriel a look, begging for help. Her response was to settle back in her seat, taking her mending back up, and shaking her head.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“Do I have to grow my hair back?” Theowen had asked, flicking her shaggy hair out of her eyes.</p><p>Lothiriel hesitated at the question, “Do you not want to?”</p><p>“I dunno,” Theowen sprawled out on the carpet in the solar, prancing her little wooden horses over the floor, planning a slow victory against the cavalry that Eobrand had set out against her, “No one makes me comb my hair, and that is better.”</p><p>A few of the ladies looked between each other, amused as always by the decisive little princess, before looking back to their Queen with smiles.</p><p>“But you do not look very nice,” Eobrand said, sitting up from his place across the wooden horses from her.</p><p>“I still look better than you do,” Theowen replied, looking pleased as anything as soon as the ladies laughed. Her tongue had become more than a little barbed ever since they had been a few days in Dol Amroth. Lothiriel wondered if Eomer had made some jest to her about how soft their southern family was, or if he had somehow goaded her into being so. Either way, Lothiriel found it more amusing than she should have.</p><p>“Theowen, that is not nice,” Lothiriel said, her voice stern.</p><p>The wide hazel green eyes turned on her, and she could see the retort forming in her mind before she said it, “Papa says that telling the truth is more important than being nice.”</p><p>“Papa says quite a lot of things, but you will be nice, or you will be put in time out, until you can manage behaving as you should,” Lothiriel raised a brow, shifting Eoddis to burp her, pulling her dress closed over her breast.</p><p>“But he was mean first!”</p><p>Waerhild smiled, “He was, and he knows where he has to go.” She turned her eyes on her son, who huffed irritably, his chin wobbling as he went to sit in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest. The little boy looked as if he was silently plotting his revenge on this injustice, and that his wrath would be fearsome.</p><p>“Should I lie then?” Theowen asked, her annoyance passing to confusion, “You and Papa say that lying is bad.”</p><p>She had not planned on discussing the complexities of morality yet, to her daughter, but here they were, “Well, if the truth will hurt someone’s feelings, then you should not tell it.”</p><p>“Papa says that if the truth hurts your feelings that you probably should not act in such a way that the truth would hurt.”</p><p>Damn, Eomer, she thought, fighting a smile. That might be true, but to tell their three-year old so seemed a curse on anyone that tried to explain it afterward.</p><p>“Well, if someone told you something that was true, but it hurt your feelings, would it matter if you were strong or weak?”</p><p>“Nothing hurts my feelings,” Theowen said stout in her belief in her thick skin, as if her inability to turn the other cheek was not the reason that they were having this conversation.</p><p>“I will bear that in mind, next time you are upset,” the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted them. She pressed on, smiling and hoping that she had not hurt her daughter’s feelings, “If you cannot say something nice, sometimes it is better to say nothing.”</p><p>“Even if it is funny?” Theowen asked, smiling.</p><p>“Even then,” Lothiriel said, knowing that by this point in the conversation she would gain no ground. It would be a standoff between her and her daughter who had the advantage in the determination of righteousness only found in the young, the hateful, or the deranged.</p><p>Theowen gave her a look that screamed, ‘oh, Mama, it is cute that you think that,’ before going back to her playing. She waited patiently for her friend to come back to play with her, cutting her eyes at Waerhild from time to time as if to beg for clemency for her friend. After five minutes, Theowen put her full powers of wide-eyed pleading on Eobrand’s mother, “Playing alone is not as fun.”</p><p>Lothiriel almost felt Waerhild’s eyes struggling not to roll back as she waved Eobrand from the corner, “come along you are requested.”</p><p>Eobrand ran from his confinement with more speed that a loosed arrow, and he almost slid on the floor back to his friend.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“Your daughter told Eobrand that she was better looking than he,” Lothiriel said, rubbing her ointments into her hands.</p><p>“Well she is,” Eomer replied without thought, then stopped short, “Do no tell Waerhild I said so.” He was of course biased in his point, though Theowen was a pretty child.</p><p>“I told her to be nice, and she said that you told her that anyone that cannot take the truth likely has some fault in their action, or being,” she looked at him.</p><p>Eomer looked at her a moment, before realizing that he was meant to answer, “Well, yes.”</p><p>“That may be right, but how can we expect her to behave?”</p><p>“She is a princess of Rohan, and we prize honesty,” Eomer said, “I will not tell her to hold her tongue, or to change her mind to appease others.”</p><p>The annoying thing was that she could hardly argue the point past pointing out that manners were a thing that existed in any society, even in Rohan. She smirked at him shaking her head, and looking back at her hands, rubbing the lotion in to her skin.</p><p>“Have I done wrong?” Eomer asked, sounding as if he had done his best to be fierce and to broker no answer against him, but she could hear the laugh deep in his voice.</p><p>“Not if you want her to bully the other children,” she smiled, not looking at him.</p><p>“She is not going to bully anyone, rather she will be their leader and will likely keep them in line,” his voice was close behind her, “and she will keep the lot of them in check.”</p><p>Lothiriel laughed, looking back over her shoulder at him, “she will be a marshal in no time.”</p><p>“Do you promise?” he nuzzled against her shoulder, his breath and beard prickling against her skin.</p><p>“Well, I will not hinder it, if that is what you mean to ask,” she smiled, stroking her hand over the arm wrapping around her waist.</p><p>“I will have armor made at once.”</p><p>“Let us at least have her comfortable riding first.”</p><p>“She runs faster than any man, and with training she can likely run faster than any beast.”</p><p>“So, you mean to raise a hero from legend?”</p><p>“Of course, of else what is the purpose of having children?”</p><p>She swatted at him, “you had best love our children even if they are perfectly bland!”</p><p>Eomer pulled a face, pulling back, “If we raise children that are as you call it ‘bland’, I will return them to sender posthaste.” He pulled the covers back on their bed, her side first before he climbed in, adjusting the pillows under his shoulders.</p><p>She watched the blur of his in the mirror, smiling a little at his silent grumbling at his discomfort, finishing the wine in her cup in a long pull.</p><p>He had found a grey hair that morning and had taken it as a sign of his coming mortality, despite him only being in his early thirties, and still being young for a king. He had yanked the offending hair out and tossed in on the hearth to burn it later, as she stood by smiling a little and assuring him that he was still handsome.</p><p>She climbed into bed next to him, gave him a kiss and turned, picking up her book, and opened it to read for a bit by the low light of the candle.</p><p>It was not long before he was snoring quietly, and she found a smile at the sound. He had not slept well for some time, and she felt a little self-obsessed that she had not noticed it sooner. She had not been the only one to suffer, and she smiled, smoothing a hand over his hair as he slept, setting her book aside and snuffing the candle out. She lay down, hearing the sound of his sleep lulled her into drowsiness, and she fell asleep.</p><p>When she woke in the middle of the night for a few moments, she was pulled back into his arms, and she fell back to sleep happily, nestled in her husband’s embrace. There was peace in his arms, and she realized that she had in some part forgotten the comfort of it.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>There was no further insult or upset, but there had not been before, so as Lothiriel listened to each bit of gossip and reviewed all the reports from the villages, she did not know how to ease into certainty. There had been quiet from that front for almost two years before. Even as she given farewell to Eowyn and Faramir, and even as she felt herself returning to life as if had ever been, she still felt the sense of dread that something else terrible might happen, with no evidence to the fact that it would. The wound still felt a little fresh on her soul, and she feared looking too long at the pain, feeling a little like a dog licking at a scratch, unaware that such attention would do more harm than good.</p><p>She had leaned into her work, and into her role as a mother and as a Queen, and found she knew that there was some comfort in the busy nature of her life. If she was still tired, at least it was a good sort of tired.</p><p>Eomer had always woken before his wife and gone riding before he needed to attend to his own duties and had begun to do his best to get her to come with him, wanting to be with her away from everything. Though on occasion she had swatted at him and grumbled at being woken at all, but her defense of sleep had done little to discourage him, for he succeeded more oft then he failed.</p><p>The one cloud, current and pressing in their household was that Theowen felt left out, still being a little too young to ride. Eomer had done his best to remedy this by getting her a pony so that he could begin to teach her how to ride, a plan that made Lothiriel’s heart all but stop constantly. She knew little about ponies besides that they were apparently notorious for being cranky.</p><p>“If that pony bites my daughter, I will cook and salt the beast,” Lothiriel said, determined to keep their headstrong child safe.</p><p>“She will be perfectly safe,” Eomer assured helping Theowen up in the saddle, her little legs hanging over the blanket, “she is still too young to ride alone, but she is old enough to learn to care for an animal , and to become comfortable on horseback.”</p><p>Lothiriel said nothing further on the topic, certain that it was a recipe for disaster, and that she was still at least two years from old enough. But there was no winning the argument, she knew, as it would only end with him explaining that this was how things were done in Rohan.</p><p>She did not watch the little lessons, her anxiety of some accident being far too strong. She knew that her presence would only lead to some exclamation or cry that might cause such an accident, so she occupied herself with tending to Eoddis and her weaving.</p><p>The assurance that the vast majority of these lessons were only in the care and keeping of the animals so integral to the culture of this country was a small comfort at least, though Lothiriel still awaited some news of disaster. It was admittedly sweet whenever Theowen came clamoring back proclaiming her excitement at having done well.</p><p>Eoddis had started to meet every mark of her development, though the only measure they so far had for such things was Theowen. She could push herself up on her forearms and hold her own head.  Eomer in the way that Lothiriel was becoming certain would be the norm with every child had decided that Eoddis was among the smartest babes in the whole kingdom, and held her with a sense of pride that she had seen in him with Theowen, and when he was victorious in the field of battle.</p><p>Things seemed to have returned to a sort of normal and after a few months, Lothiriel felt as if she was herself, or whatever she would be going forward. She felt a little as if every trauma would linger on her, but that she would in time be able to pass it by.</p><p>As Lothiriel was able to feed Eoddis again, there had been no need to keep on the wet nurse, and they had brought the little cradle into their bedroom to sleep by her mother, better to bond with her parents. There was only mild grumbling from the parents at being awoken in the middle of the night.</p><p>She scooped Eoddis from the cradle, still a little groggy as she did, feeling a little envious of Theowen and Eomer who had shifted a little and rolled back to sleep, oblivious to her being awake as they seemed to be of the thunderstorm that had brought Theowen from her bed, crying and burrowing under the covers. Getting out of the bed quietly she walked Eoddis a little, humming her back to sleep. They stared at each other, as if they were both waiting for the other to break and give over to sleep. Lothiriel pressed a kiss to the top of the baby’s head when she finally began to doze against her breast, her breath deepening and her little hands curling into fists as she slept.</p><p>Lothiriel tucked her back into her bedding, and pulled the covers over her, still humming a little to keep her on the passage to sleep. She looked over her family, all of them sleeping, and felt a little like a bandit.</p><p>This feeling had always come over her as a child when she was the only one awake. Moving carefully back into bed, she tried not to disturb anyone. Waking Theowen would make her fussy, or else she would be fully prepared to be awake, and waking Eomer would risk him grumbling, which would risk him waking Theowen from where she slept, her back against his side, and her little hand reaching out to her mother.</p><p>She carefully rested her hand over Theowen’s and let herself go back to sleep, hoping that she could get through the rest of the night without having to wake.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lady Baldgwyn was almost like grandmother to their girls and had taken care of them in the mornings when Eomer and Lothiriel rode, or else if they needed to take some time alone. Gleolith was still in their employ of course and would come to check on the children but was as often as anything sent off with the assurance that the King’s Daughters were perfectly fine and that she would be summoned if she was needed.</p><p>It was an open secret that she plied Theowen with sweets and let her run wild. It had seemed to be the custom in the Riddermark to only discipline children if they acted cruelly to others, or if there was some risk of danger in their actions. Baldgwyn being of an age to have had her sons give her grandchildren but having none yet poured her affections out on the children in the household that she had come to be a member of.</p><p>Eoddis was now five months old and could stomach some oatmeal if she was hungry, and it was a blessing, though Lothiriel still felt as if she had not done quite enough for her little daughter.</p><p>“How are things between you and His Majesty?” Baldgwyn asked, setting a honey cake where it could be easily stolen by Theowen if she had a mind to take it.</p><p>“Better,” Lothiriel blushed a little, picking Eoddis up, and settling the child on her knee, bouncing her gently, “I think he is pleased that I have begun to ask for help with the children, but that is more for my own wellbeing.”</p><p>“You know, I did not feed my boys,” Baldgwyn said, conversationally, “I had my hands too full with the running of my husband’s estate. I can hardly imagine how you managed it all.”</p><p>“With little sleep,” Lothiriel admitted, “though perhaps I am a terrible mother that it seemed easier with that one,” she jerked her head at Theowen.</p><p>“You mean to say that it was easier with only one child?” Baldgwyn gasped, “My word!”</p><p>“Gwynnie!” Theowen came hurrying over, wanted immediate attention as she stared up at the women.</p><p>“Yes, dear heart?”</p><p>“I taught Sae to roll over, and then Eoddis did it!”</p><p>“There is little correlation there,” Lothiriel admitted after they had sufficiently praised Theowen and she had hurried back to her place under the window to play with the toys that Baldgwyn kept in a chest for her use. Saeburg was over a year, and seemed close to fully grown, but had not yet realized it, still acting like a puppy. She winced a little at the memory of trying to strap the growing dog to the women as they had made their escape from- No. She pulled herself back out of that dark place.</p><p>Lothiriel turned Eoddis on her lap to face her, letting the infant grip at her fingers, and wiggled them under her tiny grip.</p><p>“You are an attentive mother,” Baldgwyn’s voice consoled the part of her that had been wriggling under unworthiness, and it was somehow better to hear the assurance from another woman than it was from her husband.</p><p>“Eowyn said that I might try to pick one thing to focus on as I recovered, but I found that I had to do my best to return to all parts of my life, so as to not to firmly fixate on one thing over the others.”</p><p>Baldgwyn smiled, her brow quirked, hoping that having put the thought into words if she would realize how mad that truly sounded, but she said nothing, doing her best not to shake her head at the young queen.</p><p>“Thank you for watching them,” Lothiriel said when they had finished their tea, handing Eoddis over to Baldgwyn, who having controlled her enthusiasm all but snatched the baby and began cooing over her.</p><p>“Do not think of it. They are perfect darlings and I will gladly take care of them whenever you wish.</p><p>Lothiriel had been assured that if one’s children did not scream at your leaving that it meant they knew you would return. It was still a little irritating whenever she tried to kiss Theowen goodbye, and was treated to almost no reaction, a dismissive wave of her hand, or a whine of irritation at being distracted from whatever it was she was doing. Finding no gentle parting words from her daughter, Lothiriel went from her, smiling, and knowing that they would be back before sunset.</p><p>Theowen turned her head suddenly at the closing of the door, a strange look on her face.</p><p>“What is it, dear?” Baldgwyn asked, smiling as she rocked Eoddis to her nap.</p><p>“Nothing,” Theowen smiled, and shook her ragged curls and looking back at the doll in her hands, making it stand up, and bobbed it up and down over the floorboards. She had never been left so long with any of the ladies that watched her, save her own governess. Gleolith would come and take them back home after a few hours, and she wondered if there would be a great outcry or a panic.</p><p>The little princess had learned by now to keep her own council, and to tell no one of the things she saw, even if she was not certain that her visions were true at all. They seemed to upset people, and even if she gave warnings in her own ways, she had already seen that people in acting to avoid the things that she saw seemed to make them so.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eomer had not told her where it was that they were traveling, beyond assuring her that it was not so long a ride as to make her weary of the road but said that she might like whatever plan he had come up with. She wanted to ask him what it was he had in mind, for his smile was sly, and she felt a strange thrill speed through her blood that she had not had in some time. There was a mild sense off hesitance as she followed his lead through a small cluster of trees, keeping a careful eye of the roots and branches that made the way a little dangerous to pass.</p><p>There was a lake, glinting silver and blue, reflecting some green from the trees around it, and she smiled, a little confused. Lothiriel looked around through the woods, feeling as if the peaceful beauty of the space was the setting for some ancient song.</p><p>“You said you have not been able to swim for some time,” Eomer said, dismounting, “and I know you miss it. The weather will only be warm a few months longer.” He glanced back, almost as if wondering if he had missed the mark but felt the sudden wash of relief at the smile on her face as she slid to the ground, leading Leofric over to tie his reins off.</p><p>“You are sweet,” she smiled, turning back to him, and undoing the ties at the front of her riding jacket, watching him taking the blankets from the back of Firefoot’s saddle. He lay them out in the splattered sunlight along the shore. She tossed her jacket on the blanket and leaned down to kiss his cheek. His hand caught the back of her head and his lips caught hers, holding for a long moment as she giggled, trying half-heartedly to free herself.</p><p>Free of her clothing, she stepped cautiously into the water, the cool embrace sliding up over her skin in slow progress until she dove under the water. It was not as cold as she had expected, and she dove deeper under the water, wondering how deep the lake went. Her feet found the bottom and she pushed up, surfacing her arms and legs paddling at the water slowly pushing the water. She floated on the surface, staring up at the sky as she breathed gently.  She missed swimming, missed the water. It was strangely peaceful, and she felt at one with the gentle curl of the water over her skin, cool and clear.</p><p>She looked back to the shore, smiling a little at Eomer watching her. He had set out a little camp on the bank of the lake and had settled himself on the blanket he had lain out. She dove under the water and swam back, surfacing for air a few times as she went.</p><p>Eomer held a towel out to her as she shook the water from her hair, splattering some of it on him, smiling at her.</p><p>“It is so beautiful here,” She wrapped the towel around herself and sat beside him.</p><p>“I am glad it pleases you so,” Eomer cut an apple in half to share with her. He had cast off his over-tunic with his usually care, not folding it, but tossing it aside on the grass and dirt. The apple was sweet, and Lothiriel dropped her head to his lap as she ate. He smoothed his fingers through her damp hair was well as he could manage.</p><p>“Do you not swim?” she said, tilting her head to look at him, smiling.</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“Then why did you not join me?” she asked.</p><p>“Perhaps I had rather hoped to watch you first,” her skin was cool from the lake water, but it slowly warmed under his fingers.  “You seemed so at peace, and I like to see you so.”</p><p>She sat up, and let the towel slip, a coy smile on her lips before she leaned forward to kiss him. It was peaceful and quiet by for the sounds of the wind, and of the sounds of birds. She nestled in his arms, resting her head against his shoulder. She did admittedly feel a little guilty at not having brought the girls. They might love it here, Theowen certainly would. She wanted to teach the girls to swim when they were big enough. If the mess they made at bath time was any indication, they would love splashing around in any body of water.</p><p>“Come swim,” she leapt up, taking Eomer’s hand in her, pulling him to his feet before hurrying back into the water, looking back over her shoulder at him. Turning and grinning, she watched him stripping his clothes off, his gaze not leaving her. He slipped under the water and let herself float to the bottom. Through the green blue haze of the water, she could see him trampling through, and hesitating, looking around for some sign of her moving, his voice coming to her garbled and distorted by the water.</p><p>Moving as carefully as she could, she went to him, lying in wait for the perfect moment to attack. She leapt suddenly, throwing her arms around his neck and tackling him into the water. His arms encircled her carefully, as he stood with her. She pushed his wet hair back out of his face, laughing a little at the look of shock that melted from his features. The kiss he gave her was gentle for the moment he gave it before dunking her back under the water.</p><p>“There now, the account is even,” he teased her, splashing gently and she swam out of reach from him. “Come back.”</p><p>“No,” she smirked, watching him wade toward her.</p><p>“I promise I will be nice, even though you started it,” Eomer’s arms pawed at the water.</p><p>She made a small sound of disbelief, her feet pedaling to keep her afloat.</p><p>“Have I ever broken a vow to you?”</p><p>He had not, but there was that mischievous look in his eye, and she knew it well enough to dive back under the surface. The sound of the second splash made her turn to look back, uncertain if it had been of her making. The hand on her ankle proved it was not as her husband gently, and teasingly pulled her back.</p><p>“You got water in my nose,” she giggled, playfully fighting off his embrace.</p><p>“I am sorry,” he said, though his laugh made her doubt him. The laugh came heartier as she tried to get the water out of her sinuses. It made her laugh in reply. She leaned back against his chest, chuckling a little, turning her face up to look at him, his smiling face shining back at her.</p><p>Lothiriel’s heart thumped hard at the look, and she felt for a moment that shew as falling on love all over again. It wasn’t the first time that she had felt this, but it always startled her a little when the feeling came on. Sliding her arms around his neck, she pulled herself up to his lips, the close contact warming her through as she pressed closer. The hand in her hair urged her gently on before the fingers curled gently around her neck, pulling her back a little. His eyes searched hers a moment, as if meaning to assure himself that her actions were of her own will. She had given him such kisses in the months since the abduction, but he still paused. It broke her heart a little that he hesitated.</p><p>She smoothed her fingers over his cheek and smiled. She pressed a kiss against the side of his neck before nipping playfully at his shoulder, she did her best to get away, giggling as she ran back to the shore.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Theowen sat out in the garden, her arms held out a little stiffly so that Lady Baldgwyn could settle Eoddis in her arms. She was a big girl, and could hold her sister, but only if she was very careful, and if there were grownups around. She prodded Eoddis’ hand with her fingertips. She wanted her to be big enough to play, but she was until too little, though sometimes she did sit up, like now in the flower patch so Theowen could show her the flowers that she had picked. She rubbed the petals gently against her sister’s cheek, “She likes the sun.”</p><p>Baldgwyn smiled down at the children, “That is good.”</p><p>Theowen looked up at the sky, her brow furrowed a little, “But it is going to rain.”</p><p>“Is it?” Baldgwyn looked up at the blue sky. The wind was coming up, but it was still a rather nice day.</p><p>“Mama and Papa will be alright,” Theowen said, mistaking the look of confusion for concern, “There is a farmhouse near where they are, and the farmer is nice. They will let them stay until the storm passes!”</p><p>“Are you certain?”</p><p>Theowen looked thoughtful for a moment, staring into space before she smiled, nodded and said, “Yes.”</p><p>“Well then, I suppose we should tell someone, then. Otherwise they will send all the riders out looking for them.”</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel rested her head against Eomer’s chest, smiling a little at the brazenness of it. She hadn’t even hesitated or asked what would happen if someone had seen them. Pulling the towel tighter around her shoulders, she started to sit up, but was stopped short by one of his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her back.</p><p>He never wanted her to let go, and she had missed that, she realized now. His face burrowed into the crook of her neck groaning a protestation at being separated from her.</p><p>She chuckled, “you will have to let me go, eventually.”</p><p>“Never,” he murmured, “I am going to hold you here forever.”</p><p>“Forever?”</p><p>“Mhm,” he turned his eyes to her.</p><p>“Who will rule in our absence?”</p><p>“Theowen is perfectly capable,” Eomer smoothed a hand over her cheek.</p><p>Lothiriel laughed, shifting in his arms, “Oh, yes of course.”</p><p>He pressed a kiss to her brow and looked back up to the trees overhead, his smile faltering a little at the greying sky.</p><p>She followed his gaze, “As much as I should like to stay here, the weather is turning.”</p><p>For a moment, Eomer had considered not saying anything, and just staying until the rain came, but he knew that she was right. He watched her dress with a sense of calm. They started riding toward Edoras as quickly as they could manage, but when the rain started, he knew that it was a losing battle. The weather turned cold with the rain, and a few rocks of hail began to crack against the top of their heads.</p><p>He slowed Firefoot to fall in next to Lothiriel, “There are a few farms ahead. We can stop and ask for shelter,” he said, doing his best not to smile at his wife, soaked through and looking a little like a cat that had fallen in the laundry.</p><p>She grinned back, “That sounds like a good idea.”</p><p>The look on the farmer’s face was a very picture of shock when he saw them ride up to his door. Lothiriel dismounted with Eomer’s help and did her best to curtsy to the man.</p><p>“My lord, Eomer King,” the man bowed staggering a little.</p><p>“I am sorry to impose,” Eomer said, smiling, “My wife and I were out riding, and this storm came up. We were hoping that we might take shelter in your barn.”</p><p>“You are welcome in our home, of course!”</p><p>“What is your name?” Lothiriel asked, smiling.</p><p>“Hadan, Your Majesty,” The farmer smiled, bowing again, gesturing for her to come in, “I will have my son take your horse, my lady.”</p><p>She handed the reins over, glad to be out of the rain and hail that had started up. Hadan’s wife was an older woman. She was pretty in a hearty way, named Dundil who looked just as surprised but had more of a warning about their guests, and had started a fire to warm their visitors from the chill of the rain.</p><p>“My lady, it is a great honor to have you and your husband here,” Dundil smiled, “We can offer you some supper if you would like.”</p><p>“At present, I am just glad of the fire,” Lothiriel smiled, sitting by the hearth. “this storm came up out of nowhere.”</p><p>“Summers in the Mark are fickle,” the wife blanched a moment, as if realizing at the last moment that the foreign-born queen had seen four summers now.</p><p>“Don’t I know it,” Lothiriel smiled, “I wonder if I will ever be used to them. I expected the winters to be difficult, but the summers I had not expected.” She took the towel from around her shoulders and held it up to the fire to dry it some.</p><p>“Oh, I will give you a dry dress!” the woman said, suddenly realizing that she had not offered anything of the sort.</p><p>“I am alright,” Lothiriel assured her, “but I thank you, madam.”</p><p>Dundil looked pleased at the polite title spoken by the queen, even as the young woman leaned forward to warm herself as much as she could manage. They both looked up as the door opened, the men returning to them.</p><p>Eomer leaned down and kissed the top of Lothiriel’s head before stooping to warm his hands on the fire, “Thank you for welcoming us, goodwife,” he smiled at Dundil.</p><p>“There does not seem to be an end in sight to this storm, my lord,” Hadan said, still seeming a little awkward at the situation in which his family found themselves, his son who looked to be about twelve years-old scrambled at a look from his mother to find some warming drink to bring them. Hadan pressed on, “You are more than welcome to pass the night here.”</p><p>“The girls will be alright,” Lothiriel said, wanting to assuage the anxiety that she knew her husband was feeling.</p><p>Eomer shot her a quick look, “you know that Theowen will be demanding sweet breads and pie for supper.”</p><p>“Worse things have happened,” Lothiriel smiled, glancing slowly over at the family, huddled around their small table, staring, or trying not to. It amused her more than it ought to have, and she did her best to smile warmly at the young boy, holding out a few wooden cups of homebrew to them, “Thank you.”</p><p>The boy bowed his head, blushing a little, “Thank you,” he said, earnestly.</p><p>Lothiriel raised a brow at him, uncertain as to what he meant by his gratitude.</p><p>“Your grain programs saved our farm,” the boy said, smiling bashfully at her, cutting his eyes quickly at his parents as if he was certain that he had spoken out of turn.</p><p>“What manner of person can call themselves human if they do not try to improve things,” she said, blushing a little.</p><p>“My brother went to fight for you when the traitors tried to start their uprising.”</p><p>“I should like to thank him,” she said, nervous that the brother had died in the endeavor.</p><p>“He lives a few leagues away now, but he will not believe that you both have come to our house,” he grinned, “He will be so disappointed to have missed you.”</p><p>“And I am certain you will not gloat in the least,” Lothiriel teased, laughing as Eomer did at the aghast look on his face, “I have brothers, and I would do the same in your place.”</p><p>She needed to try to break the strange tension of awe in the house, knowing full well that Eomer would not, even if he noticed that it was there at all. They had a quiet supper and she made a note to herself to reward these kindly people for taking them in and feeding them.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>They had begged off the offer of the bed and were perfectly content to sleep in the barn but had accepted some dry blankets.</p><p>They made a little bed up in the hay loft, and looking at Eomer, she was certain that he envied the family that minded this farm, even if it was in some silly simple way, and that he would not in truth really enjoy the life of farming.</p><p>Taking her dress off carefully and folding it, she shot Eomer a loot from where he sat on the blankets, watching her, “They seem nice,” she said quietly.</p><p>He gave a quiet murmur of agreement, “Though it may take them a few days to get over the shock of it all.”</p><p>She did her best not to laugh, carefully stepping through the straw and climbing under the covers next to him.</p><p>“Are you comfortable?” Eomer asked, shifting a little in the little bedding space.</p><p>“Well enough, though I do miss our bed,” she admitted.</p><p>“I ought to have kept a better eye on the weather.”</p><p>“Oh, hush. There was nothing to be done, and I can at least say that I have slept in worse conditions,” she chuckled, resting her head against his chest.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Theowen sat on the edge of her bed, her feet dangling in the air as she stared out through the window. She petted Saeburh’s head absently as she thought. “They’re safe with the horsies, in their house.”</p><p>“You are absolutely certain?” Lady Baldgwyn asked gently again.</p><p>“Yes, they have a bed and are very warm, but Mama is a little itchy from the straw.”</p><p>Baldgwyn smiled, imagining Lothiriel covered in hives, and doing her best not to complain to anyone about it. “Then, I am certain your parents will be back tomorrow.”</p><p>“Tell me a story,” Theowen lay down, irritably, even though she had known that her parents would be detained by weather and other acts of nature, she felt just a little abandoned. Why did her parents ride off so oft now without her? She knew her parents loved her, but she was beginning to chafe a little at not having the same level of attention that she had so far been used to.</p><p>She stared at her Gwynnie, waiting for her to start her story, sticking her thumb in her mouth a little defiantly, even at the gentle hand smoothing over her hair. She listened to the story, curling up with her dog, her fingers twisting in the shaggy fur. There was something calming about the warm breathing animal next to her, and she felt herself dozing off to sleep.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>They arrived back in Edoras looking no worse for wear beside the mess of their clothes, and the straw that they could not manage to get from their hair. Theowen came running down the stairs, ripping free from Gleolith’s careful hold on her hand, “Mama, Papa!”</p><p>Lothiriel picked up the little girl, pressing loud dramatic kisses to her cheeks, “Have you been good?”</p><p>“Yes!” Theowen beamed, “I ate all my supper!”</p><p>Eomer smoothed his hand over her hair, kissing her cheek and taking her from Lothiriel’s arms. He tossed her up in the air before squeezing her in a bear hug, watching her take Eoddis carefully up and nuzzling her little face.  </p><p>He let Theowen down as she squirmed, and he kissed the top of Eoddis’ head, looking her over with a careful eye. He had been concerned that something would have happened to his girls while he was not there to protect them, even something so simple as a scraped knee or a bruise. The fact that they were both safe and seemed happy enough bloomed relief in his breast, that he had not realized that he would have. He had not realized how nervous he had been for both of them.</p><p>Gleolith gently took Eoddis, holding her so that the baby faced out, watching as Eomer and Lothiriel let their horses along to groom them, Theowen grasping both of her parent’s hands, telling them about everything that they had missed. It seemed almost impossible that there had been so many things that she had managed to do in the day that they had been gone, but Eomer simply smiled and replied in encouraging affirmations.</p><p>She danced through the aisle of the stables as her parents brushed out the horses and cleaned their hooves and picked up handfuls of oats and treats to feed all the horses that poked their noses out, having little enough care for the training of the animals, or their diets.</p><p>Lothiriel smirked, “Darling girl, what are you doing?”</p><p>“Nothing!” Theowen said, without a care, dusting her hand off on her dress.</p><p>Eomer looked at his wife over the stall’s wall, shaking his head before ducking back down to his own work, “Bring me some oats, Theowen,” he called, “these beasts deserve to be treated well, for all the adventuring they have been through.”</p><p>Theowen filled a bucket, carefully hauling it between her knees as she strained to carry it. She settled it down at the door of Firefoot’s stall, looking very pleased with herself.</p><p>“How strong you are!” Lothiriel praised her, straightening her back as she patted Leofric’s side, and coming from the stall to pour the oats into the troughs for both of the horses. She picked up Theowen, settling her on a hip, and bouncing her a little. She was getting too large to be held this way much longer, and Lothiriel was keen to hold her as long as she could. She settled beside Gleolith on the bench, releasing Theowen after a few moments. She took Eoddis up to see if she needed to be fed, the tiny hand wrapping around her finger as she babbled, likely doing her best to fill in any gaps in the record of the day that her sister had left out.</p><p>“Their highnesses missed you terrible,” Gleolith smiled, “Theowen might have felt a little put upon, though she knew you would not be coming home last night.”</p><p>“That would have been a nice thing to have known before we left,” Lothiriel smiled, bouncing Eoddis on her knee, watching Theowen to ensure that she did not climb into a stall, or get under foot. She leaned on the stall door, talking to Eomer who smiled back at her nodding. Lothiriel could not hear what it was being said, but it felt so terribly beautiful.</p><p>“She has not said anything prescient at all of late.”</p><p>“I had wondered if she still had visions anymore,” Lothiriel admitted, “I wonder if it will fade, or if she will carry that gift into adulthood.” She watched Theowen press her hand against Firefoot’s snout, petting him and giggling.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey guys, I'm going to keep working on this story, but I've been thinking about working on a few other stories for my favorite rare pair, one of which would be an AU of this one from the start, and probably not quite as long. Is there any interest?<br/>As always, thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lothiriel woke with a little irritation as Theowen burst into their bedroom, a thing that she had not done in weeks, doing her best to pretend that she had been frightened by something, a lie that did not pass any form of serious investigation as she grinned and climbed up over the trunk at the foot of her parents bed and walked over the covers between them.</p><p>It would not have been as irritating if she had done it quietly and had not awoken her little sister, Eoddis sat up in her crib, screaming for attention. Lothiriel plucked the almost year-old child from the crib to rock her back to sleep, shooting an almost murderous look at Eomer who did not seem as disturbed by this as she.</p><p>Eomer fought a chuckle, and sat up, “Here, love. I can take her,” he murmured, trying not to yawn as Lothiriel passed the ten-month old child to him. He sat back against the headboard of the bed, humming quietly as Eoddis fussed.</p><p>Theowen stared between her parents, appearing to just then have realized her part in this chaos and almost looked ashamed, but not quite. She nestled closer to her mother, looking up at her with the wide-eyed innocent expression that always managed to get her out of trouble with her father. It did not seem to always have the desired effect on her mother, but she would keep working at it until it did. She smiled a little as her mother wrapped an arm around her and tried to get back to sleep.</p><p>He should have been irritated, but in truth, Eomer had missed these inconveniences, having thought that perhaps Theowen had decided that at almost four she had no need for her parent’s comfort in the dark hours of the night. As Eoddis’ fussing quieted to low whimpers, he smoothed his hand over her little back, still humming to her. The vibrations of the sounds in his chest always seemed to calm the child and he kissed the top of her little head, looking over his family.</p><p>He wondered for a moment if Lothiriel was pregnant again, or if she would be soon. It was a fact that he had never openly acknowledged, that the people of Rohan wanted a son from their union to be king after him. To his mind, and he had said so enough times, he would not mind having only daughters, and would not have minded if Theowen became queen, if her character at this tender age was any indication of the stubborn willfulness that would mark her as an adult.</p><p>Theowen turned over as soon as her mother had slipped back to sleep and crawled to look at her sister carefully. “I am sorry for waking her,” she whispered.</p><p>“I know,” Eomer tweaked her nose gently, “but you must be more careful in future. Your mother does not like being awoken so suddenly, and Eoddis needs to sleep.”</p><p>She chewed on her lip before staring back at him, “When will she sleep in my room?”</p><p>“When she is bigger,” Eomer whispered back, “now lay down, and try to sleep.”</p><p>“I do not want to.”</p><p>“I know, but if you do not, your mother will be quite cross with me for letting you stay up so late,” Eomer teased, tilting his head to check the baby. She was not asleep yet, and for the first moment, he was rather annoyed. Once the general feeling of soft affection that he felt for his elder daughter’s impulsive entry had finally waned, he realized how tired he was.</p><p>He wondered how Lothiriel had managed this so regularly and made a note to offer to help more with the nighttime duties of parenthood. He had considered his irregular assistances sufficient for his duty as a father until this moment and felt a little cowed at it. He had been more helpful with Theowen and upon the briefest of reflections, he realized that it was because with their second daughter, he had assumed that Lothiriel had it in hand. For a time, she had been more able to ask for help, but had all but stopped doing so. He hadn’t even noticed. If she did not expressly tell him that she wanted help, he didn’t offer it.</p><p>He glanced down at Theowen where she lay under the covers, silently playing with her doll, standing the toy up on her stomach and moving it this way and that, her little mouth moving as if she was imagining some lengthy dialog for the doll.</p><p>When he was finally satisfied that Eoddis had fallen back asleep he stood, cradling her carefully against his chest to take her back to her crib, and feeling more pleased with himself than he likely should have, smiling to himself.</p><p>That smile fell away the moment Eoddis’ eyes opened again, and she stared back at him, whimpering again.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>He would irritate his daughters in future telling of the events of Eoddis’ first steps, primarily on the point that while Theowen was clearly a fighter, Eoddis at least had the polite courtesy to wait to take those steps until her father was present to see them.</p><p>Lothiriel looked up from her account book, her eyes widening a fraction, “Eomer…” she whispered to get his attention from the letters he was looking over at their breakfast table.</p><p>Theowen squatted on the floor with her little sister as had become her habit, making the child stand up. She had been trying for weeks to get Eoddis to walk, thinking naively that if Eoddis could walk that she would be able to run almost immediately and then would be able to speak and play with her. Both of her parents had forsaken explaining the long process of childhood development to her and had decided that as long as she did no damage to the child, there was little harm in it.</p><p>Her face lit up as Eoddis held her own weight on her legs, not the greatest marvel, as she had done this before, but she took two little steps toward her sister before toppling forward into her hands, and leaned on her chest, giggling to herself and babbling away.</p><p>“That is my clever girl!” Eomer exclaimed, leaping up, his letters forgotten, and he scooped Eoddis out of Theowen’s keeping and snuggled her, kissing her cheek.</p><p>“Dada,” Eoddis giggled, at the attentions, chewing on one of her fingers.</p><p>“I helped,” Theowen scowled, stamping her foot at having been left out of the praise as her father tossed Eoddis in the air.</p><p>“You did so well in helping,” Lothiriel beamed, “You are a very good sister!”</p><p>“I know,” Theowen replied holding her arms out to her father, wanting to be thrown in the air as well, feeling that her efforts deserved at least an equal share of the reward.</p><p>Eomer chuckled and set Eoddis on the floor where she contentedly scooted herself around on her bottom, watching as her sister took flight for a moment before their father caught her and kissed her cheek before blowing a raspberry into it. He set Theowen down and looked between the sisters, “Oh, look at my girls, growing up so quickly.”</p><p>Lothiriel rolled her eyes, picking up Eomer’s letters and scanning them through for any information that might be important. They were banal, updates on crop yields and settlement buildings, things she already knew.</p><p>“We have done well so far, love,” Eomer beamed at her and kissed the top of Lothiriel’s head, “I am so pleased that I have forgotten how irritated I was that you brought your ledgers to breakfast.”</p><p>She shot him a quick look that melted into a smile as he stooped to kiss her lips, “Are you through?”</p><p>“I have a council meeting, so I had best get to it,” he said stooping to kiss their daughters again before standing, “but I hope to see you for lunch.”</p><p>“Alright,” she smiled as he squeezed her hand, liking the cheerful mood he was in, and hoping that it held through his council.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>He went along to the council chamber, smiling to himself as he looked about his advisors, “Ah, my lords! I am having a good morning, Princess Eoddis took her first steps, and so I want no bad news to ruin it. Do you understand?” he chuckled to himself as he sat before registering the looks that were passed around the table, “Ah, damn it all, what is it?”</p><p>“There was a fire my lord in one of our grain fields in the Folde, my lord,” Fulgar said, dejectedly, “so we have lost some measure of our production for the year. At least the rationing will keep up through winter, and not terribly affect our trade yields.”</p><p>“Why is this the first I am hearing of it?”</p><p>“The news only just came.”</p><p>He grumbled quietly to himself, not looking forward to telling Lothiriel about this. It would not damage their economy too terribly, if the men were right, but any downward shift at all sent her into a mood. He could already see her dragging out every one of her books, trying to find a surplus somewhere to replace what was lost to break even, and if she managed to do so, she would still be ornery about the loss. Her moods had been better the last few months, but Eomer still worried that any setback would send her into a malaise.</p><p>Having lost her to that for the brief time that he had, after her abduction and rescue, he was afraid that if she slipped back into one of those spells that it would be harder to drag her from it. Depressive states ran in both of their families, and he prayed fervently that such tendencies would pass their children by.</p><p>He nodded and listened to the news, and the advice given him, and said nothing as points and counter points were made, saying nothing and doing his best to listen and keep track of which ideas he thought best. Would it be so terrible to have his queen brought to hear this, and decide for him, especially since she had studied far more on the topic of farming than he had.</p><p>The best he understood it, since the fire had been brought under control rather early, and as it had been in one of the spring wheat fields, there was little to be done now as far as replanting. The best they could hope was that the burned section would yield again when they planted in the spring, and all indication seemed to be that this was likely.</p><p>“What you are telling me is that the crop we lost was…” Eomer struggled to find the words, “Forgive me, I know less on these matters than my wife… It is autumn now… Those crops ought to have been harvested some months back.”</p><p>“They were planted late as a contingency,” Lord Fennere explained, “in the instance that there was blight, or that the crops had not fared as well as expected.” The man fell silent rather quickly, and Eomer had the sense that he was stopping himself from saying, ‘at Her Majesties insistence.’</p><p>Eomer nodded slowly, “If there is any deficit, it can be taken out of the Crown’s share. I do not want my people going hungry, be they farmers or traders. I would rather take a more meagre share of bread than risk damaging our trade relations, or our prospects as continuing these programs is concerned.”</p><p>It seemed to be the right opinion, and his councilors agreed, a few even offering to join in this idea of sharing their grain.</p><p>Eomer had been King now for six years, and he still felt at times like an imposter, as if he had traded places with the true ruler of this country as some cruel joke played on his people. He had voiced this to Lothiriel who assured him that he was doing well, and that there was no cause for these feelings, but even before he had been crowned, they had lingered there at the back of his mind. There was always been that voice in his mind telling him that he was not good enough for anything but soldiering, and he had lived his entire life trying not to believe it.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Lothiriel took the news better than he had expected, but still combed through her books, line by line to ensure that his lords were correct in their assertion that this would not detriment them. She went line by line, updating her numbers as she went, whispering to herself, and shifting the beads on her abacus. The small clicking sound comforted Eomer in a strange way as he sat by her playing with the girls, now and then glancing back at her serene face. It could be that she was confident that things were not dire, or it could be that she hid how dire they were. That was the problem with the way that her mind worked when she did her calculations, he never knew what her ruling would be until she finished.</p><p>The sound of her turning the abacus on its side to push all the beads home dragged his attention to her, “What do you think?” he asked.</p><p>Her face revealed nothing, “That I was right to have them plant extra, though I should think we would do well to overplant next year as well, even beyond what we already have, in case this happens again.”</p><p>“Then it is not as terrible as I have worried?”</p><p>“No,” she admitted, “We still have a comfortable surplus for trade to the south, and we should be alright through the winter. I just wish someone would have told me that it had happened. Do they not all realize that the farms are more or less my division?”</p><p>Eomer stood, trying not to laugh at her irritated face. He had never once told her how precious her anger was, how much he liked the flash in her eyes and the color creeping into her cheeks, as long as her rage was not directed at him. He tried to remember what their first fight had been over and could not rightly recall anymore. They had fought enough through their marriage and had by and large not been hateful about it. Though, she had gotten angry with him during her pregnancy with Eoddis, over a poorly made joke, not realizing he had not meant it at all and hurled a pitcher at his head. He thanked the Valar that he had quick reflexes and that the only damage was a piece of broken crockery. He had made hasty apologies and had explained himself but had been certain that her pregnancy rage would lead to her killing him in his sleep.</p><p>His fingers rubbed at her shoulder to work out the tension in them, “Likely they fear me less than you, and knew that you would take such news better from your loving husband than from his lords.”</p><p>She clucked at him, elbowing at his hip, “Oh hush.”</p><p>“I mean it,” Eomer said as if it was the best known truth in the Mark, “they say that Lothiriel Queen had enemies once and that in her rightful fury set them all ablaze, and that she uses their ashes to make ink.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes, “No one says that.”</p><p>“They should,” Eomer kissed her shoulder, “I will start the rumor myself if I must.”</p><p>“So, I must be useless or fearsome?” She tilted her head back to stare up at him, “can I not for once have outlandish and unfounded rumor be that I am too kind and loving?”</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Eomer’s brow furrowed, “I will not have it. You will be a demonic queen, or nothing.”</p><p>She smiled, closing her eyes as she rested her head back against him and the fresh round of kisses he pressed to the side of her neck, “What am I to do with you?”</p><p>His usual answer came, low and warm in her ear, “As ever, my love, I have some suggestions if you wish me to give them.”</p><p>“I know what your suggestions would be,” she giggled, “and I do not think to take them at all.”</p><p>“Whyever not,” he asked, kneeling next to her, and resting his elbow on her desk, “I was simply going to suggest that you ask me to fetch you some apple bread.” His pretense at innocence could not quite make it to his face as it twisted into a dark smirk.</p><p>“Oh, were you now?”</p><p>“My Queen, I can hardly imagine where you would get such assumptions about my intentions,” he said, comically aghast, “I am your husband, not some harlot that you might call as you please.”</p><p>“Eomer,” she hissed, looking at the girls, “You must watch your tongue.”</p><p>“Watch it do what, pray tell?” he whispered, mischievously.</p><p>“No,” she fought the smile coming on.</p><p>“Whyever not,” he turned to look at Theowen, and raised his voice a little, “Theowen, would you like another sibling, yet?”</p><p>Theowen looked back at him with the face that she would give if he asked her if she would like to eat earthworms for supper, “Why? Eoddis is boring.”</p><p>Eomer laughed as Lothiriel told her not to speak that way of her little sister and assured her yet again that in time they would have more fun than they knew what to do with.</p><p>When she went back to her toy soldiers, Eomer looked at Lothiriel a little pleadingly, “Might Eoddis stay in the nursery tonight? Just to see how she does.”</p><p>“Your concern for our daughter’s development is quite touching,” Lothiriel said, closing her ledger and standing.</p><p>Eomer’s arms caught about her shoulders, holding her back against him, “If we are needed, undoubtedly Gleolith will let us know. She is old enough, love.”</p><p>Lothiriel let out a beleaguered breath, as if she were handling some audacious request from their daughter. “I will ask her if it is acceptable.”</p><p>It was the closest to an affirmation that Eomer was going to get, and he bit back the response that for as well as they paid the governess, she might well do whatever they asked and with a smile.</p><p>It might be a bit early to try for another child, and if he had done his rough calculations of his wife’s courses correctly there shouldn’t be any risk of it. They had shared a few moments of intimacy when they could manage it, mostly when they rode out and were certain that no one would see them, or when the girls went to visit with Lady Baldgwyn.</p><p>Perhaps he was getting old and too lazy in his marriage, but the idea of making love to his wife in their bed sounded far more comfortable. He missed the spontaneity of their marriage bed before they had children, the lazy mornings when neither of them had any plans and could just lay about, or the moments when they could abandon whatever task they were meant to be about and run to their chambers and give themselves over to each other without the concern of a child needing them or happening upon them.</p><p>This was not to say that he would trade them for anything in the world, he would not. Had it come down to it, had the fighting not stopped, he would have abdicated rather than give up his family.</p><p>“Papa!” Theowen called scrambling over and reaching up to him, shifting from one foot to the other, “Today I saw a cat, but it got away.”</p><p>“Did you try to catch one of the barn cats again?” Eomer asked, picking her up, trying not to groan at the effect her weight had on his back, “I’ve told you not to bother them, they have important work to do.”</p><p>“Yes, I know, but I wanted to play with it, so I had to catch it.”</p><p>“Of course, most sensible,” Eomer nodded, “but it stands that if the cat is working, and does not want to play, then it must be left alone.”</p><p>Theowen looked thoughtful for a moment, “No, I do not think so.”</p><p>Eomer squinted at her, “You are my daughter, after all, you stubborn thing.” He squeezed her side a little to tickle her and was reward with her laugh. He bounced her on his forearm, watching Lothiriel with Eoddis as she picked up the book that Theowen had discarded and began reading from it.</p><p>He let Theowen loose as she squirmed to go hear the story and smiled to himself, closing her ledgers with care and stacking them in what he guessed was the correct order and hoping that she would not scold him later for it.</p><p>He poured himself a small cup of mead and took his chair by the hearth, listening to his wife’s voice, raising and falling as she expressed surprise at the events of the children’s story, and trying not to laugh as she put on the voices of different characters. The fire cast them all in a golden light, and he felt that warm pinch in his chest that always came on when he watched the three of them interact in these quiet, normal moments.</p><p>Lothiriel shot him a look as if to point out that they had agreed that they would drink at supper, but otherwise not in front of the girls, but rolled her eyes at the dismissive wave of his hand and went back to the story.</p><p>When the story was over, Lothiriel took the cup from his hand and drained it, giving him a teasing smile, “We should tuck the girls in, do you not think?”</p><p>His own wry smile answered her, and he clapped his hands, “Come along, my darling girls. Theowen your sister is going to sleep in your room with you.”</p><p>Theowen grinned and he hoped she did not intent to wake her sister in the middle of the night.</p><p>There was a cradle in the nursery for Eoddis to have her naps when Lothiriel could not watch her, though they had been told that Theowen was far less agreeable to naps that her sister and had been found by Mistress Gleolith in a corner with a spoon as if she meant to dig her way out to freedom through the wooden walls and stone floors.</p><p>He picked up Eoddis and took Theowen’s tiny hand in his and took them both along to the nursery, nodding understandingly at Theowen’s protestations that she was no in fact tired.</p><p>Setting Eoddis in her cradle, he kissed the top of her head and gave Theowen as firm a look as he could muster until she relented and went to her little bed and he tucked her into her bed as the governess watched from the door of her own room, a wide closet that had been converted to a bedroom for her use.</p><p>“I love you,” Eomer said, tucking the covers up over Theowen’s shoulder and kissing her forehead.</p><p>“I love you, Papa,” she murmured back, crossing her arms under the covers.</p><p>He ran a hand over her honey colored hair and stood to go.</p><p>“Papa,” Theowen called.</p><p>Eomer bit back a groan and came back to her side, “Yes?”</p><p>“Do you want me to have a brother?”</p><p>He sat down on the edge of her bed, “Why do you ask?”</p><p>“If I have a little brother then he gets to have everything, doesn’t he?”</p><p>“What is bringing this on?” he asked smiling at her.</p><p>Theowen’s mouth twisted up, “I think mama is going to have another baby, and it’s gonna be a boy.”</p><p>Eomer nodded, “Well, it will be a long time before you have to worry about any of that inheritance business. Alright?”</p><p>“Will you love our brother more?”</p><p>“More than what?” Eomer asked, trying his best not to laugh, “More than I love you? No, silly,” he stroked her hair again, “I promise that I will always love you, no matter what.”</p><p>“No matter what?”</p><p>“No matter what,” Eomer smiled, and kissed her forehead again. He wondered what had brought this one, if she had seen something, or if one of the other children had said something. They were of the age now where they might repeat something that their parents had said, not knowing that it would hurt Theowen’s feelings, or that there was some context to what they had heard.</p><p>There was some sadness in the look as if she did not quite believe him and he hesitated a moment, wanting to get back to Lothiriel, but he moved the covers sat by her in the bed, wrapping his arms around her, rocking her a little.</p><p>“I promise,” he whispered against the top of her tawny head, “I will always love you, Theowen.”</p><p>She nestled into his chest, as he hummed to her, stroking her hair. Her arms wrapped around his waist.</p><p>When she finally fell asleep, Eomer carefully lay her down and pulled the covers back up over her little body. He picked up one of her dolls the way he did every time he tucked her in and slid the doll under the blankets beside her to keep her company.</p><p>He peered in at Eoddis who slept peacefully, her little breath puffing and her eyes moving behind her lids. She was such a good sleeper, and such an amiable babe.</p><p>It had completely slipped his mind that Mistress Gleolith was there, still peeking in to ensure everything was alright, as if she could not quite help checking on her charges.</p><p>In truth, though she would hardly admit it, she liked working in a household where the parents were as involved as they were. It was not entirely because it made her job easier, but more because she had heard as everyone else had that their king was a warrior renowned for his fury. She had seen little in her tenure as a governess to the royal family that did not leave her with the impression that their king was in fact the gentlest man that she had ever met.</p><p>Eomer nodded politely, giving his silent appreciation for her service before heading back to his own room.</p><p>“That took you longer than I thought,” Lothiriel said from where she had nestled herself comfortably in bed, closing her book and setting it aside, “Did Theowen give you trouble?”</p><p>He murmured his affirmation, kicking his shoes off and shaking his head, “I think she is concerned that if we have a son that we will stop loving her.”</p><p>“Truly?” Lothiriel tsked, “I hope that you told her it is not the case.”</p><p>“No, I told her that as soon as I have a son that we will ship her and her sister to live with the dwarves,” he said sardonically, smirking back at her. “Do you think one of her playmates said something?”</p><p>“Likely. Eobrand and her got into some tiff or other and they were quite unkind.”</p><p>“Children can be thus,” Eomer mumbled undressing, “though I expect that they have made amends and act as though it never happened.”</p><p>“I know it hardly matters, but Theowen started it.”</p><p>“Well, of course she did,” Eomer smirked, “I would expect nothing less. I suspect she finished it too.”</p><p>“With the deadliest of childish insults. She insisted that her father was stronger than his and that you would be quite capable of lifting Meduseld if you wished to.”</p><p>He nodded in approval at this information, seeming to think such things were not as absurd as they were before he chuckled, “I wonder what sort of things Eoddis will say when she is old enough.”</p><p>“She will trail after her sister with fanatical need to gain her affections, and likely make herself annoying until they might join together in irritation at younger siblings.”</p><p>“I think…” He pulled back the covers, thinking that perhaps they should have an even number of children so that they might all be paired together in some fashion. It was too silly of a thought to voice, and he forgot it before he might have said it anyway.</p><p>Lothiriel had undressed while he had been distracted and lay naked under the covers. She tilted her head, “What were you saying, love?”</p><p>“Something terribly important, I am certain of it,” he murmured, looking her over and climbing into bed next to her.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>Another year passed and their daughters grew and were excited that they were to have a family visit at Aldburg for their summer break, their grandfather coming with Faramir, Eowyn, Elphir, Gadrien and their cousins. As Lothiriel predicted, Eoddis followed after her sister and her friends, wanting to be included in everything that they did.</p><p>Theowen passed between excited at having someone to look up to her and being annoyed by her shadow of a sister. In her fits of annoyance, she found herself doubly so at the understanding of her mother’s “condition” as everyone called it, and that she was going to have another sibling. Likewise, in her periods of excitement, that too was doubled.</p><p>She had been asked what she thought the baby would be, but she never answered, deciding instead to smile and shrug.</p><p>Eoddis thought it was going to be a girl, having a vague notion of siblings and how they existed and thought that since her parents had two daughters that they would likely have another.</p><p>It was a concern that was shared by quite a few in the country, but they held that thought quietly unless they were certain that it would not get around that they had said it.</p><p>All that could be comfortably said was that another child was a blessing and that Eomer King seemed quite pleased by the news and would point of fact stop beaming at his wife as she grew plumper.</p><p>She had written to her family that she was expecting again and had received well wishes from all of her family, including her aunt who had of course added that she hoped it would be a son, and that the boy would be healthy and that Lothiriel would finally he completely safe.</p><p>As if the matter of the rebellion against her, and the manner in which it had ended had not already made her position in the king’s affections clear.</p><p>She rubbed her hand over her little belly, not wanting to admit that she shared her aunt’s concern. She was not entirely certain where they would put another child after this one. The nursery was admittedly a large room, but eventually it would seem rather crowded to their children.</p><p>There was also the matter of titling which had been plaguing her.</p><p>Currently she owned the house at Aldburg, which had been her husband’s estate and earldom before his ascension to the throne, and which she was now managing in her own right as her morning gift. Though he had not given her the title to go with the land and the work, though being Queen seemed even enough.</p><p>If they had a son, would that son then become Lord of Aldburg, and in that case, would she retain rights to the holding? If so, would that mean that the lordship was given only in name and had no true power? Or would the title go with the land and she would keep the house? Would she in fact give everything over to her son until he became king? Or in the case of a second son, would that son become Earl. Her head hurt a little at considering all of the legal outcomes and possibilities, and she rubbed at her brow.</p><p>Though she knew that it might be that a dowager queen would return to the people of her birth after her husband’s death, as that had been the way that Dowager Queen Morwen had gone.</p><p>She had not considered any of this as much as she likely ought to have, but it was also entirely possible that she was thinking too much.</p><p>This pregnancy made her a little more irritable than the last two had, and she wondered if it would last, or if she had in fact been this way before. She asked Eomer who faltered before telling her that she was perfectly sweet.</p><p>0x0x0</p><p>“I want Papa to do it!” Theowen whined as Lothiriel combed her hair into parts to braid it. Her daughter squirmed away from Lothiriel’s grasp and held her arms up to Eomer as he came into the room.</p><p>“Want Papa to do what?” Eomer asked, scooping Theowen up.</p><p>“She wants you to braid her hair,” Lothiriel said, holding the comb out to her husband, shaking her head a little.</p><p>“Mama pulls my hair,” Theowen jutted her little lip out at her father.</p><p>Lothiriel scoffed quietly to herself, cursing her daughter’s soft scalp.</p><p>“Ah, I see,” Eomer smiled, sitting down in his chair and combing is daughter’s hair, “Well, we cannot have that. You have such a pretty dress on, so you shall not have anyone pulling on your hair.”</p><p>“The dress is newly made!” Theowen said, beaming a head of her. “Gleolith finished it yesterday, and I must not get it dirty.”</p><p>He braided her hair with gentle fingers, and never once mentioned that he thought he did a better job than his wife did, or that telling Theowen not to dirty her dress was like telling the sun not to shine.</p><p>He wove a crown of the front of her hair and a green ribbon, and set it carefully, nudging it with the tips of his fingers to ensure it would keep its shape before combing through the hair that hung down her back. “You look very pretty, my dear.” He set her down off his knee and kissed her cheek.</p><p>Theowen beamed, twirling herself around so her skirts spun out around her.</p><p>He watched Lothiriel do her best at braiding Eoddis’ hair, the two-year old’s little face screwing up a little at the feeling, and bit back the offer of taking their other daughter’s hair into his charge.</p><p>Their daughters looked well, and they looked like sweet little princesses of the Riddermark, but they were quite wild under that sweetness, and he had nothing but admiration for it.</p><p>As soon as the thought entered his mind, Eoddis reached out and tugged on her sister’s hair. Theowen responded by slapping her hand a little to hard.</p><p>“Stop that now,” Lothiriel chided, “You will both behave yourselves, or there will be no playing with your cousins. Is that quite understood?”</p><p>The sisters stood still with their hands clasped daintily before themselves and the closest thing to ladylike looks on their faces.</p><p>She hoped that Alphros and Mithriel would indeed play with their younger cousins and not scoff at them for being younger. From what she had heard Alphros had become a serious youth and was of the opinion of all twelve-year old boys, that he was a man, and was not to be questioned, but his sister at her ten years was little changed.</p><p>“We should be quite alright,” Eomer said, smiling at the girls, “and I should hope you will both mind your mother.”</p><p>The girls gave him matching smiles, full of mirth at his hope and their golden heads turned to look at each other as if they found his words adorable.</p><p>He caught sight of that look and smiled at Lothiriel and her look of irritated acceptance. She knew how much her husband doted on their daughters and loved him for it. She loved her girls and their personalities as much as her husband did, but Theowen was coming of an age where she might need to learn discipline and manners. She did not want to snuff out the fire in their elder daughter, but she wished that she would not play so roughly with the other children and did not have her father’s temper. There was little enough to be done for it yet, and she prayed for patience.</p><p>“Come along, girls, let us greet our family members as they come,” Lothiriel smiled, taking the little girl’s hands in hers with all the gentleness that she lacked in the care she gave their hair.</p>
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